


Five Days

by Vampiyaa



Series: Forever and More [4]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Het, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Episode: s04e13 Journey's End, Post-Episode: s07e04 The Power of Three, Post-Serial: s134 Planet of Fire, Reunions, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-15 14:59:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1309084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vampiyaa/pseuds/Vampiyaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five/Rose; Eleven/Rose; Part Five of the Forever and More series. After losing Tegan and Turlough, the Fifth Doctor's TARDIS lands in a certain alternate universe where he meets a certain blonde woman who somehow seems to know him. A certain blonde woman he discovers he needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day One: Loneliness Loves Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Directly after Turlough returns to his planet, the Fifth Doctor's TARDIS takes him to a parallel universe. He stumbles upon a woman named Rose Tyler, who seems to know him well.

Five Days  
Day One: Loneliness Loves Company

“My exile has been rescinded.”

It was a jolt to both of the Doctor’s hearts. With a forced tone, he said, “I’m pleased for you.”

Turlough hesitated. “Doctor, I—”

“I shall miss you,” interrupted the Doctor, trying to smile but instead managing only a grimace.

“I don’t want to go, Doctor,” Turlough admitted. “I’ve learnt a lot from you. But I have to go back to Trion. It’s my home.”

“Better to go back while you’re a bit of a hero, eh?” the Doctor quipped mirthlessly.

They shook hands, and Turlough smiled. “Thank you for everything, Doctor.” Turning to Peri, he added, “Look after him, won’t you? He gets into the most terrible trouble.”

“Well, I—” Peri started to stammer, but without waiting for her answer, Turlough turned and left with the Captain.

The Doctor watched his friend go, for a moment seeing Tegan in him, running away in tears instead of striding away with confidence. Clearing his throat and turning sharply to Peri, he said, “Well, I should get you home.”

“Oh, must you?” Peri said earnestly, looking a bit disappointed.

“Oh, yes. Your friends will be worried,” said the Doctor, abruptly entering the TARDIS and starting up the controls.

Peri slunk into the TARDIS, lower lip sticking out a bit. “It’s funny, but just before I met you I was saying I wanted to travel, and I’ve still got three months of my vacation left.”

A flash of anger seared through him— who was this stupid little American, anyway, assuming that if she hinted heavily enough he’d take her to see the universe? With one last pounding on the controls, the TARDIS landed. He turned, glaring at her. “You can’t come with me.”

Her eyes flashed with hurt, but he ignored it. “But—”

Gritting his teeth — did her mother ever tell her ‘no’? — he grabbed her shoulders and steered her out the door into the warm California sun. With one last glare and another, “You can’t come with me,” he slammed the doors shut and made to pilot the TARDIS into the Vortex. Not for the first time since he’d stolen her, the TARDIS jolted on her own and piloted herself, landing God knows where with a crash that tossed the Doctor onto his arse.

“Where the sodden hell have you taken me?” he spat rudely at the ceiling. 

She hummed disapprovingly at his tone, but that was the only answer he got. Kicking the console and shouting out in pain when it hurt more than it relieved his anger, the Doctor snatched his jacket off the console, slipped it on and stormed into the hall, plopping down on the floor and scowling at it. First Tegan, and now Turlough. Everyone left, in the end, but why _them_? His brave heart Tegan and fellow exile Turlough. Even though it’d been Turlough’s exile being lifted that had made him choose to leave, the Doctor in all his current depression couldn’t help but be angry with him. Wasn’t he good enough? Wasn’t the _whole goddamned universe_ good enough? 

Then his thoughts turned back to Tegan and his shoulders slumped, anger dissipating at once. He couldn’t be angry with her. It was his fault she left— he’d broken his brave heart Tegan. _It’s stopped being fun._ All anger gone now, he couldn’t hate Turlough either— Turlough was lucky to have a planet with people worth going back to. Who did the Doctor have back on Gallifrey? Romana, who was always pleasant, his brother Brax and Leela— and a whole lot of Time Lords who looked down their noses on him (his brother included). All in all, the ratio of good to bad wasn’t too positive. 

The Doctor sighed and clasped his hands in an arch, resting his chin on it. Once again, he was alone. He didn’t want Peri. She’d seemed all right when they’d been defeating the Master, but then she just had to nose her way into his business when he was hurting, as though she were part of his life. He snorted. As if. She was _nothing_ like Tegan and Turlough. Maybe it was a good thing that they had both left— his life was dangerous and they could go the way of Adric. Brilliant Adric was gone too. He was better off alone, anyway.

Except he wasn’t alone in the TARDIS anymore— he jumped when he heard the doors of the TARDIS close gently from the console room, a pair of hesitant footsteps and a woman’s voice softly coo, “Oh, you’ve changed. You’re so beautiful.” He was astonished when he heard the hum from the TARDIS answering her. 

Scrambling up off the floor, the Doctor stopped in the doorway overlooking the console room. A lovely blonde woman in her twenties was standing at the console, running her hands over it and smiling with a surprising gentleness. How the _hell_ had she gotten into his TARDIS?! And why did his TARDIS _let_ her in?! 

The woman jumped when she spotted him gaping at her from the doorway. Before he could open his mouth and demand who she was, the woman rushed out hurriedly, “Er, hello, my name’s Rose Tyler. Are you a companion of the Doctor? ‘Cos… I’m kind of lookin’ for him, so if you could just, um, tell me where he is…” Then she frowned. “Why on _Earth_ are you wearing a vegetable?”

The Doctor gaped at her, and she flushed under his scrutiny, giving him a slightly nervous smile. Honestly, this was _not_ the time for beautiful blonde women to be waltzing into the TARDIS (or poking fun at his celery), not when he was downcast over losing all his friends. With a scowl, he said, “ _I’m_ the Doctor.” Leaning against the doorframe and looking away from her piercing stare, he added a bit weakly, “Get out of my TARDIS.”

“Don’t you remember me?” Rose asked instead, sounding terrified. 

He felt a sudden urge to console her for some reason; he turned to her fully and asked kindly, “Who are you? If I’ve forgotten, perhaps I’ll remember you.”

“Like I said, I’m Rose Tyler,” she said earnestly, gripping the console as if for comfort. “Um, I travelled with you for nearly four years.”

“Oh, you’re a companion,” he exclaimed, frowning. How peculiar— the TARDIS had never taken a shine to any companion as much as she had with this Rose woman. Managing a weak smile, he replied, “Well, Rose Tyler, it appears the reason I don’t remember you is because we haven’t met yet.”

Rose mouthed an ‘oh’. “What body is this then?”

“Fifth,” he answered, astonishment washing over him when she gave him a smile that could only be classified as _loving_. 

“Aw, you’re still a baby,” she said endearingly.

This prompted a petulant scowl from him. “I am _not_ a baby!” 

He looked at the floor, feeling his face heat up, especially since now Rose wasn’t smiling and was instead examining him with her head cocked to the side. With a look of concern she asked, “What happened?”

The Doctor blinked at her. “What makes you think anything happened?”

Rose gave him a knowing look, leaning against the console. “I just know.”

If there was one thing he hated, it was people knowing things about him and his future that he didn’t. But the fact that Rose Tyler was looking at him with such a caring expression — and the fact that the TARDIS was mentally shooting him a look that said ‘don’t even think about it’— stopped him from shouting at her. She patted the space next to her on the console, inviting him to take the place next to her, which he did a bit sluggishly. Unable to look at her piercing gaze, he dropped his eyes to the floor. “I just lost my friends.”

“Tell me about them,” she said gently.

He didn’t want to talk to this stranger about his dearest friends, but at the same time he did. She was odd, this Rose Tyler, knowing just what to say. Suddenly he wanted to spill his hearts out to her, tell her about not just Tegan and Turlough but about Adric and Nyssa as well. Staring hard at a spot of engine grease next to his left shoe, the Doctor blew out a sigh. “I travelled with two people, an Australian flight attendant named Tegan and a renegade named Turlough.” She nodded, looking at him intently. “Turlough’s exile was rescinded, and he decided to rejoin his people. Tegan…” He trailed off, pain searing in his hearts; Rose hesitated for some reason before placing her hand between his shoulder blades and rubbing, which he didn’t even know could soothe him until she did it. “Tegan stopped enjoying it.”

She gave his hand a squeeze with her free one. He managed a half-smile of gratefulness her way, before she added, “Who else?”

“What makes you think there was anybody else?” he frowned. 

“I just know,” she repeated with a shrug. 

The Doctor was brimming with questions about this woman — like, for example, how on Earth she knew just what to ask and when to comfort him — but the need to vent overpowered that. “A while ago, one of my other companions, Adric… died.”

“‘M sorry, Doctor,” she said, before dropping her own head into her lap. “If it’s any consolation, I know how you feel.”

“Oh?” he asked curiously.

Rose nodded. “I lost my parents, my friends, an’ my husband.”

He stared hard at his lap, unsure whether or not to console her. Instead, cringing at his bitter tone, he said, “Loneliness loves company.”

“Isn’t that ‘misery’?” Rose said confusedly.

“What’s the difference?” he moped.

She looked downcast. “True.”

This time it was his turn to give her hand a comforting squeeze, making her smile gratefully. Tentatively he asked, “Um, what happened?”

He’d expected an accident of some kind, maybe something that had happened, or would happen, in one of their adventures. He most certainly did not expect her to say, “I outlived them.”

The Doctor frowned confusedly. “Forgive me— how did they die?”

“Old age,” Rose replied. 

“But you’re so young,” he pointed out.

At this, Rose grimaced. “I’m eighty years old. Long story,” she said, when she noticed his jaw had hit the floor. “Still got my little brother though,” Rose added, before quirking her head to the side. “Well, he’s not really ‘little’…”

“How old is he?” the Doctor asked.

Rose hesitated. “Sixty.” Sitting up briskly and smiling widely, Rose said, “Y’know what always makes me feel better?”

“Er, what?” he said.

“Chips,” she declared. “Want to go get chips?”

The Doctor stared at her, but she looked completely serious. The TARDIS hummed encouragingly at him, and he chuckled a bit. “All right.” 

She grinned at him and he couldn’t help but grin back as she led him out of the TARDIS and into what appeared to be evening summer London. The only difference between this London and the one he remembered were the giant zeppelins in the air instead of aeroplanes. He frowned and opened his mouth to comment on it, but the TARDIS doors suddenly slamming shut behind him made the notion flit out of his mind. 

“What was that?” Rose asked, frowning and watching as he approached the TARDIS. 

“I’m not certain,” he replied, experimentally trying to open the door before yelling out in pain when the TARDIS sent a shock up his arm. “Ouch! What the sodden hell—?”

“She only does that when you’ve done something wrong,” Rose said knowingly from behind him, and he turned around to see her glaring at him with one hand on her hip. “What’ve you done?”

“That’s a good question,” the Doctor muttered, before mentally asking what Rose had inquired, which the TARDIS ignored him. 

He scowled at her and tried the door again, only to have Rose’s pair of slender hands wrap around his wrist and pull his hand back. “Unless you want second degree burns, I wouldn’t do that.”

Obediently, he lowered his hand but continued to glare at the TARDIS. He demanded to know when her temper tantrum was going to be over, but the only response he got was a quirked eyebrow and a ‘when you learn something’. What the sodden hell did that mean, anyway, ‘when he learned something’? “She’s kicked me out,” said the Doctor petulantly. 

Rose grinned when he stuck out his lower jaw in an obvious pout. With a tongue-in-teeth smile that had his mind fogging up for a moment she said, “You can stay with me until the TARDIS forgives you for whatever you did, if you want.”

Blinking out of his haze, he smiled with gratitude and said, “That’d be lovely, thank you, Miss Rose Tyler.” Hopefully whatever he’d done to make the TARDIS start taking the mickey would settle in a day or two and he’d be able to leave… where it was he’d landed. 

“You’re welcome,” Rose said, before they set off together towards a chippy. 

He was embarrassed to discover that she’d been holding his hand and he hadn’t noticed, nor was she showing any signs of letting go. Not that he minded. It was actually rather nice. After Rose ordered them both an enormous box of chips, they sat down together at a table in the summer air. 

“Where are we, anyway?” the Doctor asked curiously, as a zeppelin roared over their heads advertising something called ‘Vitex’. 

“London,” Rose said, dumping salt onto her chips. At his frown, she smiled and added, “You’re in a parallel universe, mate.” 

“Oh!” he exclaimed. That would certainly explain it. Then he paused, chip halfway to his mouth. “Hang on, how do you know about the other universes?”

“I’m from the same universe as you, Doctor,” Rose said. 

“How did you get here?”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “Long story.”

“Start from the beginning, then,” the Doctor said, unwilling to let her dodge this question like she had last time. 

Rose inhaled deeply and said, “Okay. One day, when I’m travelling with you, some things with the Daleks and the Cybermen are gonna happen and I’m gonna be trapped here with my mum. I’m gonna find a way back, only…” Her voice trailed off, and she looked downcast. 

He gripped her hand under the table. “Only?”

“Something’ll happen, and I’ll… meet my husband, John,” Rose said vaguely. “You’ll send me back with him so we can live our lives together.” The Doctor frowned confusedly. Why would he send Rose and this John bloke to live in this parallel universe? Couldn’t they live in the original universe together, or travel with him? When he opened his mouth to point out these discrepancies, Rose said hurriedly, “Aren’t I not supposed to be tellin’ you stuff from the future?”

“I’ll have to forget this anyway,” he assured her. Since it was clear she didn’t want to talk about her husband, he asked instead, “You said your parents were here as well, but you’ve only mentioned your mother.”

“My dad — my real dad — died when I was young, and the parallel version of my mum from here died too, and when we got trapped here the two of ‘em found each other and got remarried.” Rose smiled brightly, taking a handful of chips. “They had Tony about six months later— Mum wanted to have the wedding before she started showing.” Then she frowned at him. “How did _you_ get here?”

The Doctor, who’d been previously awestruck at her brilliant smile of nostalgia, shrugged with confusion. “I haven’t a clue. The TARDIS piloted herself here.” 

Rose nodded, as if that’d confirmed something. “Figured it couldn’t have been coincidental.” Without elaborating, Rose wiped her hands on her napkin and stood up abruptly. “Allons-y, then, Doctor?”

He raised an eyebrow at her choice of words but nodded, picking up the empty chip box and tossing it in the bin before allowing himself to be led down the sidewalk, still holding hands with Rose Tyler, still leaving it unnoticed. As she led him into the Tube, he raised his eyebrows when he saw that all of the signs and posters were written first in English, then in Latin; his confusion heightened when Rose bought their tickets in fluent Latin, and at his astonished look she said, “Latin is the second most spoken language on this Earth.”

“How peculiar,” he said, and Rose giggled. “Who’s the Prime Minister?”

“We have a President, actually,” Rose said. “Harold Saxon, or something like that. Only won out of a technicality— he’s a fishy-looking bloke.”

The Tube led them into outer London, where the homes were starting to get more and more lavish. “Interesting neighbourhood you live in,” the Doctor said, looking around.

Rose hesitated. “I may or may not be an heiress.”

He gaped at her, and she flushed. He’d noticed earlier how her lower-class London accent had clashed with her expensive clothing, but her being an heiress was something he most certainly did not expect— his shock only worsened when she strode up to a giant mansion and swiftly unlocked the door. “You live by yourself in this giant place?” he said, feeling terribly sorry for her. It was hard enough for him travelling with only the TARDIS for company— he could only imagine what it must be like for her, living in such a huge manor all alone after watching her parents and her husband die.

She shrugged. “Tony and his wife, Cecilia, stay here often. ‘Sides, I don’t use the whole house— only the west wing.”

It still sounded awful to the Doctor, but she gave him a reassuring smile and led him into a lavish living room, with a couch situated next to a pair of glass French doors overlooking a large willow tree. As Rose tossed her coat onto the couch, the Doctor strode up to the fireplace, on top of which were a series of framed pictures. One of them depicted Rose snuggled up to an old man, both of them beaming away like… well, like fools in love. Others showed Rose kissing a balding ginger man on the cheek, of the same man posed with a large blonde woman in a wedding dress, and of Rose and the blonde woman cheering on a little boy at a football match. 

“That’s John,” Rose said quietly, startling him— he hadn’t even noticed she’d been standing next to him. She gripped his arm with one hand and pointed to the old man with her other. “That’s my mum and dad on their wedding day.” She pointed to the third photo. “An’ that’s Tony at his little league match. He lost. Ended up taking him to the zoo to cheer him up. D’you want a drink?” she asked suddenly. 

“Er, what? Oh, yes please,” he said, watching her dazedly as she squeezed his arm once before bouncing into an adjoining kitchen island and ducking down to grab a bottle of something. 

The Doctor wondered about this strange little human. The TARDIS had specifically taken him to this universe, in the same place as the one person who was able to cheer him up after losing Tegan and Turlough. This Rose Tyler woman, who was eighty years old and didn’t look a day over twenty, who’d experienced what he’d been running from all of his lives by watching everyone she loved around her wither and die while she stayed the same and lived on, who lived all by herself in this giant house and still had the ability to smile. One side of him was intrigued by the mystery that was Rose Tyler, as she was shrouded in questions and impossibilities; another wanted to sweep her into his arms and console her, to whisk her away from this universe of loss and heartbreak, and to keep her close to him so he could ensure she’d never be hurt again. 

“Doctor?” Rose’s voice tore through his thoughts, and he blinked himself back to reality only to see her holding out a glass of wine in front of him. 

“Hm? Oh, yes, thank you,” he fumbled, taking it from her and following her to the couch, where she plopped herself comfortably. 

“You’re welcome,” Rose said, sipping her glass. “Tomorrow, we’ll go back to the TARDIS and see if she’s done being mad at you, yeah?” When he nodded in unison, she looked at him pointedly. “What on Earth did you do to make her so mad? The only time she’s ever locked you out was when you accidentally landed her on Athion, and thieves stole her and tried to take her apart.” 

Grimacing at the prospect of his precious ship being taken apart by slimy Athionian thieves, the Doctor sipped his drink as well and said, “I haven’t the faintest idea what I’ve done. I don’t recall doing anything particularly abhorrent.” He paused. “I did kick the console.”

“She’d just rearrange the doors or hide all the bananas for something like that,” Rose said. There was another mystery— how on Earth did she know his ship so well? “No, you either piloted her into a sun or left her behind somewhere.”

“I did neither,” he sniffed. When the hell would he _ever_ leave behind his precious third heart? “When I asked when she was going to let me back in, she said ‘when I learn something’.”

Rose’s expression fell into one of deep contemplation, where her head cocked slightly to the side and her teeth worried her bottom lip. He found it adorable. “Oh, you devious ship,” she murmured.

“What?” 

“Nothing.” Rose grinned at him, sitting up suddenly. “You didn’t answer my question, y’know.”

Her tongue was at the corner of her mouth again. He tried harder than he should have not to stare at it. “Er, what question?”

“Why you’ve got a stick of celery on your coat,” Rose said.

He gave her a pointed look over his nearly empty glass. “Oi. It’s a useful and potentially life-saving vegetable, and is an excellent restorative.”

“It belongs in the vegetable crisper, not your coat,” Rose giggled. Draining the rest of her glass, she stood up and said, “You can sleep in the guest room. S’got a shower, so you can use it if you want.”

The Doctor hesitated, suddenly embarrassed. Staring at his shoes, he mumbled, “What about, er, clothes?” 

“Oh you can use—” Rose started to say, before pausing, “John’s old clothes.”

He fell silent, unsure what to say as she led him down the hall into a lavish guest room. As grateful as he was for Rose’s hospitality, he wasn’t quite certain about wearing clothing that belonged to her deceased husband. Still, unwilling to voice this and make her feel worse, he took the bundle of clothes she handed him and nodded wordlessly when she pointed out the loo.

“Thank you, Rose,” he said.

She smiled and said, “Night, Doctor,” before leaving, closing the door behind her. 

He dropped the clothes onto the bed and sighed, wallowing in melancholy that was no longer about himself. Poor Rose. Maybe, when this was all over, he’d ask her to travel with him for a bit before he had to forget about her. The Doctor grimaced but rummaged through the clothing Rose had given him, which consisted of a couple pairs of trousers, blue and white Oxfords and pinstriped jimjam bottoms— all in all, nothing too far from his tastes. 

Perhaps things would look better in the morning. Grabbing the jimjam bottoms, he headed into the en suite to change. 

*

Rose headed into the bedroom she shared for sixty years with Johnathan Noble, closing the door behind her and leaning on it, heart thudding in her chest. It’d been almost two years since she’d seen the Doctor, any Doctor. And it was clear why the TARDIS had ‘accidentally’ landed in Pete’s World— Rose just had to make sure this cricketer, celery-wearing Doctor never found out anything about his future and Rose’s past. 

It was sort of ironic, after all— the Doctor showing up on the two-year anniversary of John’s death. She’d been on her way back from visiting his grave, and she’d nearly had a heart attack when she saw the outlines of the ship she hadn’t seen in over half a century appear directly in front of her.

The TARDIS really was a conniving ship.

Rose had expected to find either a pinstriped Doctor or a future Doctor’s face she’d never seen before, broken or in need of her help. She hadn’t expected to find a Doctor who didn’t know her yet, moping about losing his companions. 

After the Time Lord Doctor left her behind on Bad Wolf Bay, John had told her about the day he’d gone to the Library with Donna and encountered a woman named River Song, who knew his name. That’s how the Doctor had known he’d eventually marry her and couldn’t take Rose with him, not even if John didn’t exist. At first she’d been angry with him, but then grew sad when John told her he wasn’t quite certain if the Doctor would fall in love with her or not. The part of her still in love with the Doctor hoped he wouldn’t, that their marriage would just be a technicality; the other part hoped he’d move on. 

Still, for some reason she found a little bit of solace knowing that the Doctor, while a past version, was just a couple of rooms away, and equally lonely. 

He was right— loneliness does love company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta: natural-blues**.  
>  A/N: And so begins the fifth story in the Forever and More series :) This one'll have shorter chapters than you all are used to, and is set post-Journey's End for Rose and kind of post-Planet of Fire for Five (except I rewrote the ending). There will be a one shot sequel to this once it and the rest of this series is finished. Hope you enjoy, please review! :3  
> Special thank you to bluedawn who pointed out an error in the story, which I've now corrected.


	2. Day Two: Songs in the Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose dreams of the day her husband died, while the Doctor has to get through the day wondering why he feels odd around his newest pink and yellow friend.

Day Two: Songs in the Rain

_The monitor beeped steadily in the background, slightly muffled by the pounding of rain against the windowpanes behind the plastic curtain. Rose was sitting in a black chair perched at the head of a hospital bed, where an elderly man with flyaway grey hair was lying down, snoring softly. Rose gripped his bony hand, and his eyes fluttered open._

_A smile broke out over her face as his brown eyes flicked over to her. “Hello,” Rose said warmly, reaching over with her other hand and pushing a lock of hair behind his ear._

_“Hello,” he replied weakly, but he didn’t return her smile._

_Her face fell. Biting her lip, she said quietly, “You don’t know who I am, do you?”_

_He was quiet for a full minute. Then he said, “No.”_

_They sat in silence, listening to the rain for a bit. Chewing on her lip, Rose broke the silence by saying, “D’you know where you are?”_

_“The hospital,” he said earnestly._

_Rose nodded. “That’s right.”_

_John frowned, the wrinkles in his face prominent. Then, in a small voice, he whispered, “Am I dying?”_

_Tears welled up in her eyes, and her grip on his hand tightened as she lowered her head into her lap. “Doctor—”_

_“I_ am _dying,” John wheezed. His frown disappeared slowly. “I’ve lived a good life with you, my Rose.” Her head snapped up, to see he was looking at her with the gentle smile that he’d always worn, when he was big ears and leather and when he was still a Time Lord, and then when he was simply hers. “Been so happy,” he mumbled, making a happy noise in the back of his throat until he was overcome with a coughing fit._

_“Me too, my Doctor,” Rose smiled through her tears._

_John’s frown returned. “Why are you crying?”_

_His memory in the past four years had always been wonky, but this past week it’d degraded more and more quickly. Now he could barely keep one solid fact in his mind before it flitted away. This was why John’s face suddenly bloomed with what could only be described as pure terror. “Are… are you leaving?” he whimpered._

_“Wh—?” was all Rose managed to get out before John grabbed her arm and hugged it to him, holding on for dear life. Had he been healthy, he probably would have been hurting her, but his grip was barely a whisper._

_“Don’t leave me, Rose,” he wailed, tears streaming over his face. “I’ll do better; I’ll make you happy…”_

_Rose hoisted herself onto the bed, leaning his head into the crook of her neck and wrapping her arms around his frame. He clung to her, crying into her chest, sobs slowly turning into whimpers as she rocked him and crooned out the Gallifreyan lullaby he’d taught her, until he fell asleep again._

_John died in her lap ten minutes later._

*

“ _Lay back and rest now; you’re safe, child of Time_

_Sleep under this burning sky_

_Dream of a new dawn in red, gold and lime_

_And I’ll stay with you as you lie…_ ”

*

Rose bounded forward, sucking in a rattling breath only to panic when she couldn’t take in air around the painful lump in her throat. She swallowed and tried again, relaxing a bit when she gulped in a gratifying lungful of oxygen. With one trembling hand she wiped off the fresh tears and sticky remnants of partially dried old ones from her face. Biting back a new wave of tears, Rose rolled over in her too-big bed and snuggled into what was once John’s side, holding the duvet up to her nose to see if she could find any trace of his scent lingering— which, after two years and a hundred washes later, was fruitless. 

Huffing a ragged sigh, Rose threw the duvet away and clicked on the light before slinking out of the covers, dropping to her knees on the ground and pressing her ear to the floor as she reached under the bed. Pulling out an elegant oak chest with a gold plaque inscribed _Johnathan Noble_ , Rose ran her fingers over the font and tried to work up the courage to open it at last. Since John had first gotten sick, he’d forgotten several things — including what Torchwood was, that Jack Harkness was no longer travelling with them and that Gallifrey, which he’d described to her in detail when he learned of his imminent death, was destroyed in the Time War — but one thing he never forgot was his decision to place little mementos of each day in the next year inside the chest Rose was currently hugging. A week before he died, John had told her where he’d hidden it and instructed her to open it when he passed, but two years later Rose hadn’t gathered the nerve to open it. She thought maybe things would be different, having the Doctor in the next room, dressed in John’s clothes and unaware that one day he would be split into two men and one would marry her, but she was still as frightened as ever as to the contents of John’s box. 

Sighing and wiping her eyes a second time, Rose replaced the box underneath the bed and looked at the clock for the first time. It was barely three a.m. and there was no way in hell she was going to get back to sleep. It was then that she noticed the thing that had probably triggered her dream.

It was raining.

*

The Doctor woke in an unfamiliar bed wearing unfamiliar clothes, and for a moment he panicked— had he been abducted? Then he remembered Rose and he relaxed, rubbing at his eyes. It’d taken him _ages_ to get to sleep, what with the lack of the TARDIS’s humming in the back of his mind and the jimjams smelling of a mixture of Rose, her husband and dust. Obviously Rose hadn’t lent out John’s things to other blokes. That brought up a slight feeling of satisfaction, although he couldn’t quite place why. 

Glancing at the tiny alarm clock on the bedside table, he gaped when he saw he’d been sleeping half the morning— it was nearly nine. Hoping he hadn’t made Rose wait for him, the Doctor bounded out of bed, snatched up an ensemble of beige trousers, a white Oxford and his own jacket (there were some things he wasn’t willing to part with) and heading into the loo to shower quickly. Feeling pleasantly funny when he emerged smelling of Rose’s shampoo, the Doctor dressed and hurried out into the living room, prepared to put on his best ‘oops’ face for sleeping late. Unfortunately, he found the living room devoid of her presence. Frowning, the Doctor headed down the hall, hesitating before knocking on her door and hoping dreadfully that he wasn’t bothering her. When she didn’t answer, he peeked inside only to see her room empty as well. 

Though the rude, curious side of him was itching to look through Rose’s things to try and better understand her, the Doctor restrained himself and closed her door. He headed back into the living room, intent on searching the whole mansion for her, but he didn’t have to— he spotted her through the French doors, standing in the pouring rain on a white swing hanging from the willow tree. Irritation mixed with worry panged him suddenly— what the sodden hell was she doing? She was going to make herself ill! 

Opening the doors and hurrying out into the rain, he opened his mouth to shout and demand that she return inside, but his voice failed him and his hearts deflated when he heard her singing.

“ _Lay back and rest now; you’re safe, child of Time_

_Sleep under this burning sky_

_Dream of a new dawn in red, gold and lime_

_And I’ll stay with you as you lie._ ”

Her voice was gorgeous, but that wasn’t what had him frozen in the rain, unable to find his voice— it was the song itself, and the fact that after the English-translated verse she lapsed into chiming Gallifreyan, everything spoken correct from the verb tenses to the syllables. When he was finally able to speak, all he could choke out was, “Rose, what on Earth are you doing?”

She turned around, hair plastered to her head. “Swinging.” 

“It’s the middle of a downpour,” he scolded her as he covered her trembling arms with his jacket. His hearts lifted a bit when she giggled at the celery stalk close to her face, but they crashed again when he remembered her singing. Swallowing hard, he said, “How do you know that song?”

Rose blinked at him. “You taught it to me.” He gawked at her, almost forgetting he was still walking her back to the house until he nearly ran into the doors. “Why, is it important?” 

_Monumentally important_. “Oh, not really,” he lied instead, before abruptly changing the subject. “What the hell were you doing out in the rain?”

A flicker of something passed over her face before she grinned. “I like the rain.” As much of a lie as that obviously was, he let it go despite his curiosity clawing at him. “Don’t you?”

“It’s lovely,” he said bitterly, making her laugh. 

“I’m sure you think so,” she said, before shrugging off his coat and handing it back to him. “‘M gonna shower then make breakfast, ‘kay?”

“No, you’ll shower and _I_ shall make breakfast,” he said gallantly, giving her a stern look that lost its charm when Rose looked at him amusedly. 

“ _You_ can cook?” she said disbelievingly. 

He turned his nose up in the air. “What makes you so certain I can’t?”

“‘Cos I’ve lived with two of you,” Rose said. “The first time I met you, you couldn’t even make toast without burning it, and after you regenerated you were able to make macaroni and cheese, although it took a few tries ‘cos you couldn’t keep your attention on it longer than six seconds.”

The Doctor flushed when she collapsed into nostalgic giggles, a little offended though he was glad to hear Rose didn’t have problem with his regenerations as most of his companions did. “Well, _this_ time I can cook,” he sniffed. “The TARDIS may sabotage my meals occasionally, but Tegan and Turlough always enjoyed them when—”

He fell silent, hearts getting lodged in his throat at the mention of his friends. Guilt flooded through him when he realised that, in the hype that was Rose Tyler’s life, he’d all but forgotten them. She was either fantastic at cheering people up or he was an awful friend. Perhaps both. The Doctor was so caught up in his internal monologue he didn’t realise Rose had stepped closer to him until she was hugging him tightly, and to stop from looking like an idiot he hugged back, only to discover that hugging Rose Tyler was something he enjoyed immensely and tightening the embrace. She was soaking wet but smelled like their now mutual shampoo and the dusty scent of rain.

“Go on then, Mister,” Rose said, giving him one last squeeze before letting go. “Make me the best breakfast ever so you can gloat.”

As she sauntered off down the hall, he watched her with something warm and fuzzy growing in his chest, and for some reason he had to make an extra effort not to stare at her bum like some kind of randy human teenager. Snapping himself out of it and blushing a bit at his own idiocy, the Doctor proceeded into the kitchen and began indulging his nosy side, rummaging through her spice cabinet and sniffing at each of the contents. Sneezing over the rosemary, the Doctor smiled when he came across an alien spice that he recognised as aronite, a delicacy in three galaxies found only on the planet Valkani. Of course a former companion of his would have alien spices in their cabinets, especially one as significant as Rose Tyler.

He set down the aronite and pushed the rosemary back as far as possible before taking out a package of chives and pepper and setting out to make Rose Tyler the best omelette in the whole multiverse. Luckily for him, Rose was taking extra long to get ready (as did most of his female companions) so he had time to throw out the first omelette he burned and pout before having another go at it. The sound of the door opening and the overpowering scent of her perfume hit his nose just in time as he was flicking the second omelette onto a plate. Rose emerged dressed in another expensive but lovely ensemble, hair partially wet and curling naturally over her shoulders.

“Wow,” she gaped, making him grin smugly. “You actually made something without turning it black.”

“Thank you, I think,” he said, beaming like a child being praised when she gave his arm a squeeze in thanks before taking her plate and seating herself at the bar. 

“Want to go and see if the TARDIS is done being angry with you?” Rose said through a mouthful of eggs. “S’my day off, so we can do whatever we want today.”

He nodded. “Perhaps she’ll tell me what I’ve done.”

“Just make sure you ask before you try and open the door, else you’ll find yourself with burns,” Rose said knowingly. 

“Indeed,” he muttered, flexing his presently unburned fingers. 

They put their empty plates in the sink before Rose grabbed an umbrella and heading out into the humid air— the Doctor was pleased for some reason when she accepted his bashfully outstretched hand and didn’t let go, giving him an excuse to hold her hand the whole while they walked on the grassy path. The prospect of sharing an umbrella gave him another reason to stay closer to her than deemed normally appropriate.

“How were you able to get into the TARDIS?” he asked almost conversationally, remembering the way she had simply barged in. 

With a sideways smile, Rose stuck her thumb into her blouse — making him blush and scold himself in his mind for thinking inappropriately — and hooked it around a chain, pulling out a key he recognised to be a TARDIS key. “I have a key, you know. You gave it to me.”

He nodded contemplatively, before switching to his next question. “Why don’t you age?”

She looked for a moment like she was debating whether or not to tell him. Then she replied, vaguely, “You were in danger, an’ you sent me away in the TARDIS. So I looked into her heart.”

“You did _what_?!” he yelped, fuming at her as best he could still holding her hand. “Rose, don’t you know that’s immensely dangerous and—?”

“And don’t _you_ think I’ve heard all of these arguments from you before?” Rose grinned, tongue between her teeth, and he felt his angry expression slip off his face involuntarily as his eyes were drawn to her tongue. “I had to save you, y’know, an’ I don’t regret it. All it did was alter my physiology a bit.” 

He opened and shut his mouth several times, well aware that he probably looked like a fish. Then he flushed and glared at his feet. “Do you do things like that often?” 

“Y’mean become all-knowing entities and dissolve fleets of Daleks into dust?” Rose said airily, smirking a bit when he lifted his head and gaped at her. “Not often, no.”

At this they shared a laugh before heading onto the Tube. The fellow passengers gave them a few odd looks at the way they were blatantly flirting with each other, and one person even mumbled, “Just snog already, yeh idiots,” which thankfully Rose wasn’t able to hear, although the Doctor could and spent the next five minutes deflecting about why his face was red. 

They emerged from the Tube giggling like idiots, laughter stifled when they reached the TARDIS. “Here goes,” said the Doctor dramatically, before mentally asking the TARDIS if he was forgiven. She mentally stuck her tongue out at him ( _Oh, how very mature_ , the Doctor thought bitterly) and ignored his further questions.

“I’m gonna guess by the way you’re scowlin’ that she said no,” said Rose, tugging him by their still intertwined fingers away from his petulant ship.

“Time Lords don’t scowl,” he defended, frowning further when she tossed back her head and laughed at that. 

“Right,” she said. “Just like Time Lords don’t snore, or whine, or fall asleep with their mouths open on the couch with a book on their faces.”

“They— we don’t!” he spluttered, hoping to God he hadn’t done the last thing Rose had mentioned, although he probably had. 

“I have pictures of leather you asleep in the library with your mouth open and _Othello_ on your forehead,” said Rose with a smirk. 

The Doctor went the colour of tomato soup and muttered something about not being accountable for anything undignified when exhausted, prompting another fit of giggles from her.

They puttered around parallel London for hours, Rose pointing out the differences between this world and their original world— for one thing, the London Eye was a square instead of a circle, but was still called the London Eye, which the Doctor ranted happily about how utterly ridiculous that was and earned several glares from tourists stubborn enough to visit the Eye in the downpour, but he really didn’t care because Rose was roaring with laughter and that was all that mattered, really. He got excited when he discovered this universe’s Charles Dickens had published three more books before his death, prompting him to drag Rose into a bookstore to buy them. 

Soon it was lunchtime, so they got chips again and Rose positively beamed when he announced that ‘too much fried food was going to kill them, Rose Tyler’ making him certain he’d said something like that before. For somebody who hadn’t seen him in over half a century, she acted as though she’d only seen him yesterday. 

Rose suggested they return to the mansion to watch a film once it was nearly three p.m., and he agreed with a fluttery feeling in his hearts as he imaged them curled up on the couch together in front of some unknown film (which in his mind was black and white, for some reason). Rose bet him ten quid that he wouldn’t be able to engage a fellow Tube passenger in conversation, which he grudgingly handed over after trying for twenty minutes to no avail, earning himself nothing but glares from the bloke and secret giggles from Rose Tyler. It was unbelievably easy to interact with her, which only made him wonder how any future version of himself could possibly send Rose away to live with some other bloke in another universe. He was already finding himself jealous of all the time ‘John’ spent with her, and he’d only known her for a little under two days.

“What film shall we watch?” Rose asked, plopping herself down on the couch and tugging him down next to her.

He made a mental note that this was now the fifth hour of holding Rose’s hand, most likely a record for him for holding _anyone’s_ hand. “Something sophisticated. None of that girlish, silly nonsense.”

“Speaking of silly nonsense, I happen to know you love _the Muppet Movie_ ,” Rose grinned, giggling when he blushed embarrassedly. “What about _Oliver Twist_? In this version, instead of that Davies bloke, it was Jack Jenkins who played Oliver.”

“No,” he gawked like an old woman gossiping. “Put that on!” 

Rose grinned, tongue between her teeth again (he tried hard not to stare) and popped it into the DVD player. He tried not to beam like an idiot when she plopped down on the couch so close to him that their legs were pressed together, despite the couch being big enough for four people. 

… what the hell was wrong with him? Thankfully Rose couldn’t see his frown, as she had her head on his shoulder and her eyes locked on the screen. The Doctor was never one to fawn over someone— _anyone_ , for that matter, and yet here he was, forcing down a stupid grin just because Rose Tyler was sitting close to him. She’d come into his TARDIS without warning, having lost just as much as he had — maybe even more — willing to take him in, comfort him and knew things about him and his TARDIS. 

Things like the TARDIS’s MO when it came to her temper tantrums and like the same Gallifreyan lullaby his mother used to sing to him when he was a time tot.

And now she was making his head go loopy. Should he be suspicious? Perhaps she was wearing some kind of aphrodisiac that his system couldn’t take. Leaning his head over with subtlety, the Doctor breathed in her scent, looking for any trace of an aphrodisiac. 

He found nothing but her lovely, natural scent of vanilla and the artificial scent of her shampoo. 

The Doctor’s frown deepened, pretending to be engrossed in the film when Rose glanced at him curiously. Maybe she was a telepath, powerful enough to mask her telepathic signature and mess up his mind without his noticing. Hesitantly he reached out towards her mind with his, taking immense care not to slip too far into it and alert her, and did the mental equivalent of a tiny peek. Her mind had a slight telepathic signature, as though another telepath had looked into her mind (and no, that was not jealousy he just felt) but she wasn’t giving off any signs of her own. Withdrawing from her mind, he wondered what else it could possibly be. Maybe there was something wrong with him. He scanned himself internally, to see nothing wrong except slightly elevated hormonal levels, and he hid yet another blush behind his hand. 

The only conclusion he could come to was that Rose Tyler fascinated him. Nothing more.

Soon, the ending credits were rolling on the screen and Rose was sighing happily at the ending, and once again the Doctor was wondering why he had to fight to keep a silly grin off his face. “Back in a mo’, gonna pop off to the loo,” said Rose, before bouncing down the hallway. 

The Doctor waited two minutes before growing bored and deciding to be nosy again. He poked his way through knickknacks on the mantle, before spotting what appeared to be a leather-bound photo album. Hesitating and listening for signs that Rose was returning, the Doctor curiously opened the album and scanned the first array of pictures. The first couple of pages were mostly of smaller copies of the same photos on the mantle, but the Doctor froze when he came across one on the third page. It depicted Rose with far shorter hair, beaming like a thousand suns in the embrace of a man in mid-laugh, with stick-uppy brown hair and sideburns. 

He’d seen this bloke before. The Doctor wasn’t sure where, but he’d seen him. Shutting the photo album in astonishment, he quickly replaced it exactly where it had been and brought a hand to his mouth. He’d actually met Rose’s dead husband, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember _where_. His gaze turned to the hallway, where Rose had disappeared— should he tell her? No, there was no reason to alarm her or bring up painful memories.

As Rose re-emerged, the Doctor hurled himself onto the couch and pretended like he’d never left, warding away the look of panic with a bright grin. She returned his brilliant smile and he found it turning from fake to real. “Wanna watch another film? I could ring the shop and order something. Thai?”

“Ooh, brilliant!” he chirped, and Rose beamed and bounced over to the phone.

*

“I’m gonna have to work tomorrow,” Rose told him, after they’d spent the last two hours watching the parallel version of _Some Like It Hot_ and laughing over their food. She was putting the plates in the sink and he was seated at the kitchen island. “So you’ll have to entertain yourself here for a few hours.”

He tried not to pout and failed as they returned to the couch, plopping down inelegantly and pretending the way he leaned against her was natural. “What do you do?”

“I’m the Director at Torchwood,” Rose said. “Took over after Dad died.” At his look of confusion, Rose remembered, “You don’t know what Torchwood is yet.” Leaning her head back against the cushions, she explained, “It’s an organisation of alien experts. In this universe, we’re extremely popular— in the other universe, Torchwood is secret.”

“Why weren’t you working yesterday?” he asked.

The Doctor most certainly didn’t miss the way her eyes flicked down to look at the ground before returning to look at him. “I took the day off,” she shrugged, before abruptly changing the subject. “What were you doing before the TARDIS decided to take you to this universe?” 

He stayed silent for a moment. “I was saying goodbye to Turlough. And refusing to let somebody travel with me.”

Rose, who at first was looking sympathetic, frowned at him. “You refused to let someone travel with you?” When he nodded, her frown deepened. “You’ve never done that. Not even when you hated the bloke.” The look of confusion changed to something that shocked him into rigidity— anguish. “It really hurt you, didn’t it?”

Without letting him react, she reached over and pulled him into a hug. He hesitated almost a full minute, but since she didn’t show any signs of letting go he gave up and accepted her comfort, wrapping his arms around her frame and pulling her into him, burying his face in her neck. Rose started to hum the Gallifreyan lullaby and he felt his hearts clench, and he spent the next ten minutes in her embrace fighting tears.

He fell asleep listening to her song, and she followed him a few minutes later listening to the rain.

“ _Lay back and rest now; you’re safe, child of Time_

_Sleep under this burning sky_

_Dream of a new dawn in red, gold and lime_

_And I’ll stay with you as you lie._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta: natural-blues**.  
>  A/N: I can't tell you how bloody hard it was writing that lullaby. :p Anywho (Doctor who!) as I'm sure you've guessed, this story will be chalk full of angsty angst :3 but I can promise a happy ending, with an Eleven/Rose reunion. Thank you so much for reading and please leave a lil somethin' in the box for Vampi :3


	3. Day Three: Always And Forever, Your Doctor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Rose is at work, the Doctor goes snooping in her room and finds something that scares the hell out of him.

Day Three: Always and Forever, Your Doctor

The Doctor woke hours before her, so he had the opportunity to enjoy holding Rose Tyler. 

After jolting himself out of a stupid dream in which the TARDIS’s roof collapsed on him and Rose refused to dig him out, the Doctor realised the pressure on his chest was actually Rose asleep on top of him. He spent the first minute blushing a furious red — she was _spooning him_ , for Rassilon’s sake — and then the next smiling caringly when she tightened her grip on him. It’d been ages since he’d slept two nights in a row; usually he only needed a couple hours of sleep every few days. Then he frowned— Rose had to work today. He craned his neck to get a glimpse of the clock above the fridge, which read two in the morning. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to leave until at least seven o’clock. He was going to be positively _bored_ for Rassilon knows how many hours. 

He almost jumped when she whimpered against him. The Doctor glanced down to her face, only to see it was contorted with pain, fear or distress— he reached a hand up to stroke her head, only to freeze when what was clearly a tear slipped over her cheek and disappeared into her hair. Whatever she was dreaming, it wasn’t good. His hearts clenched as he swept away the tear only to have two more spill down in its place. 

He could easily slip into her mind and replace whatever dream she was having. But that would require him seeing whatever she was dreaming, and he was pretty certain Rose would not approve. So instead the Doctor gathered her up into his arms and rocked her gently, running a hand through her hair and humming the Gallifreyan lullaby back to her. Rose sniffled but quietened, burrowing her face into his neck. The Doctor stopped humming and huffed out a sigh. Poor Rose. He couldn’t help but think that had she never met him, she wouldn’t be in the position of having lost everyone. 

He simply enjoyed holding her for a few more hours, before six o’clock chimed and Rose was starting to show signs of waking up. Gently the Doctor lifted her off of him and placed a pillow underneath her head, before jumping up and smiling. He could do at least one thing for her…

*

Rose woke at ten to seven with a stick of celery next to her face. She frowned at it before blinking sleep out of her eyes and sitting up, only to have the Doctor’s jacket slide off of her shoulders. She blushed a bit when she remembered the two of them falling asleep on top of each other. Where was the Doctor, anyway? 

Rose hugged his jacket to her tighter and raised herself up off the couch, immediately spotting him in the kitchen with his back to her, bouncing in front of the stove. When she giggled, he turned around and positively beamed at her. “Morning, Rose Tyler!” 

“Mornin’, Doctor,” Rose grinned, tongue in teeth, and she ignored the swoop in her stomach when his eyes locked on her tongue. “What’re you doin’?” 

“Breakfast!” he chirped. “You, Rose, are far too thin, which leads me to believe you skip breakfast often,” he added, giving her a pointed stare as she looked sheepish. Handing her a plate of bacon and eggs, he continued, “And no, it did not turn black, I’ll have you know.”

“Ta,” Rose grinned, giving him a happy hug before grabbing her plate and plopping onto the chair at the kitchen island. “I can’t get out until five ‘cos I took time off the day before, so you’ll have to entertain yourself ‘till then.” 

He didn’t bother to hide the pout the reminder brought on. “I’ll visit the TARDIS again, see if she’s done being a child.”“She’s not gonna let you in ‘till you figure out what you’ve done,” Rose said knowingly, popping bacon into her mouth. “You should probably keep asking her what it is. Maybe she’ll give in.” 

“I shall try that,” he decided. He fell silent for a moment, staring at his bacon as though expecting it to jump up and dance. Then she froze when he asked, “Would you like to return to the original universe?”

She dropped her bacon back onto her plate and gave him a confused glance, but he looked dead serious. Ducking her head, Rose mumbled, “What would I do there?”

The Doctor also dropped his head, avoiding her gaze. “Find future me.”

Her head snapped up to stare at him, and his eyes slowly rose to meet her gaze. There was earnestness in his eyes, but also something Rose recognised as a mixture of fear and hope. Her heart stuffed itself into her throat— it was the exact same look the Doctor had given her several times, like when her first Doctor had taken her to the end of the world and nearly gotten her killed, and just after he regenerated on Christmas. 

Biting her lip, she gave him a sympathetic look. “I know a bit of what happens to you after you leave me with John.” Her shoulders slumped. “You move on. Me showing up again’d just bring up old wounds.” 

A flicker of hurt passed over his face, but he looked determined. “Rose Tyler. If future me knew exactly what you were going through here, he’d be asking the same thing. I know— I’m him,” he added with an eyebrow waggle so similar to her husband. 

Against her better judgement she felt a smile crack over her face, which only grew when he smiled in response. Unsure whether or not she was lying she said, “I’ll think about it, yeah?” 

As much as she wanted to return to the Doctor, she didn’t want to simultaneously hurt him and cause trouble between him and River Song. Although she couldn’t exactly tell this Doctor that the reason she didn’t want to return to him was because he’d fall in love with her, lose her, meet his future wife, get cloned and be forced to leave her behind to fix his clone on the same beach they said goodbye on. 

They talked over their breakfast for an extra half hour before Rose swanned off to change and do her makeup, and he slipped his jacket back on and revelled in her scent clinging to the fabric. She re-emerged dressed in a tight white blouse and skirt (and no, he did not gape like an idiot) and gave him a tight five-minute hug before leaving in a black company car. 

*

It took precisely four hours for the Doctor to grow bored. He entertained himself for the first half of what he called his ‘Rose-less time’ by reading all three of Charles Dickens’ books, and all of the books in the bookcase after that including what were probably Rose’s brother Tony’s old baby books, and then setting out into London to confront his TARDIS again. He once again failed trying to engage a fellow Tube rider in conversation, and that was the only moment he was grateful Rose wasn’t there, because he only had one more tenner in his pocket. 

When he reached the TARDIS, he spent the next hour begging the TARDIS to let him back in, asking her what the hell he’d done and trying to bribe her with the prospect of taking Rose travelling with them. He was certain that last one would break her resolve, since they both seemed so fond of each other, but the TARDIS refused to open her doors even for that. The Doctor slunk back to the mansion and spent a full hour scowling.

He was completely and utterly bored by one o’clock, so he grabbed a fruit for lunch and decided to explore the mansion. The Doctor poked his way through the whole manor, finding nothing remotely fascinating besides a Venusian hairdryer and a bigger-on-the-inside suitcase. Upon stumbling on what was most likely Rose’s parents’ room, he promptly ran away and spent another ten minutes hoping Rose never found out. Eventually the only places left to explore were his room, which he’d already explored the first night he was there, and her room, and as much as his polite side was refusing, his curiosity was stuffing his polite side into a trunk and mailing it to Timbuktu. Praying Rose would _never_ find out, the Doctor sidled into her room.

It was practical and just a little messy (he tried to avoid looking at the pair of knickers in the corner) and he didn’t look through her clothing drawer (he had some dignity left). Just as he was about to leave, his foot caught on something sticking out from under the bed and he went crashing to the floor. 

Rubbing his paining elbow, the Doctor hoisted himself up before investigating whatever he’d just tripped over. It was an oak chest that had most likely never been opened, as the hinges had almost fully rusted, and on the top of it was a plaque inscribed ‘Johnathan Noble’. Rose’s dead husband. Lifting it up and sitting on the bed, the Doctor flipped open the chest. 

There was a jumbled assortment of random things— an elastic-wrapped bundle of photos, a gold wedding ring, a sealed envelope with Rose’s name on it—

— and what was definitely a sonic screwdriver.

The Doctor snatched it out of the box and stared at it, hearts thudding against his chest. Why would Rose have a future version of his old sonic screwdriver in a chest under her bed? Setting the sonic down, the Doctor snatched up the photos and unwrapped the elastic. There were around five of a shorter-haired Rose and a big-eared, leather-clad man grinning at each other like idiots, occasionally with a black man or another bloke who seemed to be eye-shagging the camera in every shot. The next twenty or so were of the same pinstriped-suited bloke giving Rose soppy looks, including the same photograph the Doctor had seen earlier in the photo album. Once again the Doctor was hit by a wave of familiarity.

He hesitated over the envelope, but curiosity got the better of him again and he flicked off the seal. Pulling out the folded parchment, the Doctor took out his brainy specs and scanned it over.

_My Rose,_

_Right now, it’s our tenth anniversary and you’re asleep, and even though it’s been ten years since we got married, you haven’t aged a day. So if you’re ever reading this, it’s because Bad Wolf changed your physiology and you’re not ageing, which means you’ve outlived me and I’ve died. If that’s what happened, then my last request is for you to leave this universe, Rose. Leave it behind and find the Time Lord version of me in the original universe. Even though he’ll have married River Song, you have to go back to him— and don’t doubt for a second that he wouldn’t want you back, Rose Tyler. I’m him and he’s me._

_Like I said, I don’t know whether or not he’ll actually be in love with River or not, but I know that he’s never going to stop loving you, Rose. When I’m gone, go back and find him. And don’t be sad. You’ve made me so happy._

_Always and forever,_

_Your Doctor._

The letter slipped through his shaking fingers and fluttered onto the bed. He started into the distance, not really seeing anything. Everything was crashing into place like a maelstrom— why Rose had declined to return to him despite clearly liking his presence, why she refused to talk about her husband, even why she’d paused before touching him in the TARDIS console room and hesitated before giving him her husband’s clothing. 

At once, repressed memories flooded into his mind, making him gasp as he remembered precisely where he’d seen the suited man before— when he’d been transported into the future TARDIS and met his future self. The difference between the future him in the pictures and the one he’d met (besides the blue suit) was the look of loneliness and loss in the eyes of the one he’d encountered. 

He really did need Rose Tyler.

With hands trembling violently, the Doctor stuffed everything back into the box, not bothering to try and cover up his presence. His finger brushed against something cold and metal; he closed his fingers around it and pulled it out. It was the gold ring he’d seen before. There was something inscribed on the outer rim, and when he read what it was, it merely confirmed everything.

 _He_ was her husband. Or he would be. Or, _one_ of him would be.

_Always and forever,_

_Your Doctor._

*

Rose returned at five thirty with a box of chips for the both of them, only to find him hunched over on the couch, staring hard at the rug with a hand over his mouth. It was what she used to call his ‘bothered face’, the one he used to make when he was upset. Since he didn’t seem to notice her presence, Rose put the box on the counter and circled the couch, sitting next to him and placing a hand on his arm. 

He jumped a bit, looking panicked, and now it was her turn to be shocked when he put nearly a foot of distance between them. “Er, hello Rose! You’re back!” 

“Yeah, I brought chips,” Rose said, frowning at his sudden nervousness. “Doctor, are you all right?”

He smiled a little too brightly for her tastes. “Fine, Rose.” 

“I don’t believe you,” she said pointedly, but it was punctuated with her tongue-in-teeth grin that had him relaxing against his will, “but I’m not gonna pry.” And for that, he was immensely grateful. “Did the TARDIS tell you why she won’t let you leave?”

“Er, no,” the Doctor said, cringing. She didn’t have to tell him— he knew now what his ‘lesson to be learned’ was. And he’d just learnt it.

“We’ll figure it out,” Rose assured him, making an involuntary smile come to his face. “Wanna watch another film while we eat?”

“Yes,” he said, because that gave him an excuse to think without being rude. 

Rose popped in a nameless film that the Doctor paid no attention to whatsoever, using the chips as an excuse to not sit as near to her as before (oh who was he kidding? That had been full-out snuggling) and trying to ignore the subtle sideways glances of worry Rose would send him every half hour or so. He hated that he was worrying her, but what he’d seen on the ring and in the letter frightened him more than Daleks did, and that was saying something. 

Near the end of the film, Rose’s mobile rang, making him jump. Giving him another concerned glance, Rose pulled her mobile out of her bra (what the sodden hell?) and flicked it open. “‘Lo?” A pause. “Oh, hi Cecilia. What’s up?” Her face fell into horror. “ _What_?” Another horrified pause. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” The Doctor was stunned when she flicked her phone shut and turned to him with pure terror in her eyes. “Tony’s in the hospital.”

“Your brother?” he said, pushing away his own problems and reaching over to grab her hand. She nodded, and he hesitated. “Do you… want me to come with you?” 

She ducked her head into her lap and nodded again. He couldn’t help the affectionate smile and drew her into a hug, hearts faltering when she hugged him back and buried her face into his neck. They stayed completely silent as Rose put her coat back on and hugged his arm the whole while they walked to and rode on the Tube. He found himself praying that this Tony bloke wouldn’t die like everybody else had in Rose’s life— Rose was already in pain; she didn’t need to lose her brother early as well. 

_Always and forever,_

_Your Doctor._

When they entered the hospital holding hands, a nurse led them to the third floor where a lined-faced woman with grey-blonde hair was sitting in a chair next to a wrinkled man on a hospital bed. They both looked up when Rose entered the room. The Doctor quickly let go of her hand and stepped back as Rose approached her brother. 

“Hello,” said Tony, smiling.

Rose smiled back. “Hello.” She glanced between him and Cecilia, who looked just as calm as Tony. “What was wrong?”

“They think it’s just pneumonia,” Tony said idly, waving her hand. “I’ll have to stay overnight, the doctors said, but I’ll probably be fine.” The Doctor saw Rose visibly deflate with relief, and his hearts pained for her again. Tony pointed to a chair in the corner. “Stay for a bit.”

“ _You_ should be resting,” said Cecilia sternly. 

“If the doctors said—” Rose started to say.

“Fine, fine,” Tony interrupted on a false grumble. “You’ll probably have to get home and take your seven o’clock nap,” he added, smirking.

Rose swatted him on the arm. “Respect your elders, Mister.”

The three of them shared a laugh at that, but it only worsened the Doctor’s mood. Placing a hand on her shoulder and giving it a squeeze, he murmured in Rose’s ear, “Stay with your brother. I’ll return to the mansion.”

“Are you sure?” Rose said, turning fully to him. 

Well aware that Tony and Cecilia were watching him suspiciously, he nodded. Rose hugged him tightly, which he returned before turning his back on them all and leaving the hospital. 

He all but slunk onto the Tube, plopping down onto the dirty seat and leaving the odd looks people were giving his celery stalk unnoticed. His hearts felt like somebody had put them in a grinder. Accidentally bumping into three people and not apologising, the Doctor left the Tube and returned to the mansion, first sinking down into his previous sanctuary on the couch, burying his face in his hands. 

The Doctor hadn’t realised the extent of the damaged he’d done, or would do, to her life. The look on her face when she’d answered that phone call was not one of familial worry, but of sheer terror. He’d wanted to gather her up in his arms and never let go, he wanted to sob out apologies until she forgave him, but most of all he wanted to swoop down and kiss the fear away.

_Always and forever,_

_Your Doctor._

In Rassilon knows how long, he would be split into two people, one of whom would be happy with Rose but wither and die and make her watch the whole of it; the other would be forced to let her go, knowing that one day he’d marry a woman named River Song, not knowing if he’d ever love the bloody woman. Rose had lied to him— she hadn’t ‘met’ Johnathan Noble in this universe. Something had happened and Johnathan Noble was created. The Doctor understood now why his Time Lord self had left Rose and John in this universe, besides her family having already settled here.

Anything closer would hurt like hell.

The discovery of his human self’s letter, and the inscription on what was in all probability his wedding ring, made the Doctor’s resolve harden— no matter what, he had to get her back to future him. The Doctor had asked her to return with him at first because he couldn’t stand to see her so alone, but now he knew that future him would need her. There was no doubt in his mind now that he would fall in love with her, and the Doctor didn’t give a flying fuck if future him was married to some woman named River Song— hell, he didn’t even care if they had three children and a house with a picket fence. One day he’d remember everything that had transpired in the past three days, and he would be reminded of just how much pain he’d caused her. 

Hell, he hadn’t even done anything yet and it still hurt like hell. 

Limbs feeling heavy as lead, the Doctor slowly rose from the couch and dragged himself down the hall, suddenly feeling exhausted. His initial intent was to return to his room, curl up under the sheets and sleep so he wouldn’t have to think anymore, but when he reached his door, he decided against it and instead continued to the next room. Heading sluggishly into Rose’s bedroom, the Doctor collapsed onto the bed and curled up into her sheets, falling asleep in a Rose-scented cocoon. 

_Always and forever,_

_Your Doctor._

*

After the first two hours of chatting, Cecilia fell asleep in the chair in the corner of the room, so Rose and Tony had to speak in hushed voices. It felt like a douse of cold water on her when Tony sat up and asked, “Who was that bloke, the one who looked a bit like a cricketer?” When Rose hesitated, he added a bit sadly, “That was the Doctor, wasn’t it?” 

Rose’s head snapped up and her mouth fell open. “How did you—?”

“Only the Doctor would wear a stick of celery on his jacket,” chuckled Tony, before his eyebrows arched upwards in sadness. “Is this the Time Lord version?”

Rose nodded, slumping in her seat and allowing herself to look upset for the first time in three days. “Not just that, Tony. This is a version of the Doctor… who hasn’t met us yet.”

Tony frowned. “What?”

“This is his fifth body, he said,” Rose mumbled quietly. “The Doctors I knew were the ninth and tenth incarnations. He told me after we got married. I don’t even think this Doctor’s anywhere near the Time War yet.”

Tony gripped her hand tightly. “When did he show up?”

“Three days ago,” Rose said. 

Tony’s frown deepened and he asked, “On the anniversary of the Doctor’s death?” When Rose nodded forlornly, Tony whistled. “Blimey, the bloke has always had fantastic timing, but that takes the biscuit.”

“It was the TARDIS, Tony,” she explained. 

“His ship that looks like a police box?”

“Yeah. Apparently, the Doctor was just sayin’ goodbye to his friend when she just up and piloted herself here. Was on my way back from… their graves when suddenly I see her materialising straight in front of me.” She chuckled, wiping moisture from her eyes with her free hand. “She ended up locking him out. S’been stayin’ with me ever since.”

“An’ you managed to make him fall in love with you again in three days?” Tony said curiously. “How the sodden hell’d you managed that?”

“Tony, it’s been three days since he’s met me— the Doctor’s not in love with me,” Rose sighed, suddenly feeling nineteen again. 

“Sorry, Rosie, but I saw his face when he hugged you,” Tony said, patting her hand. “You’ve charmed this vegetable-Doctor just like you did the suit Doctor. And the leather one too. _And_ he was holding your hand.”

“You sound just like Mum an’ Mickey did back when I was nineteen and a shop girl,” Rose muttered. “The Doctor’s always been a hand-holder, Tony.”

“So then, he’s always looked like he wants to snog you into the ground too?” he said inquisitively, ignoring her glare. He cocked his head to the side. “‘M sorry Rose. This has gotta be hell for you.”

Rose shrugged. “Not really. You can’t be miserable with the Doctor around.”

Tony bit his lip. “You’re in love with him.”

“It’s the Doctor, Tony,” Rose sighed, playing with her wedding ring. “I can’t not be in love with him.” 

Tony looked at her sympathetically before coughing for a brief minute. Rose rubbed his hospital gown-covered back until he stopped and lay back down. They spent a few minutes in a heavy silence before Rose added quietly, “He asked me to come back with him to the other universe.”

“But he’s a past version of the Doctor,” Tony frowned. “Isn’t that paradoxical or something?”

“Not to travel with him,” Rose elaborated, “to bring me back to the future him.”

Her brother sat up a bit straighter. “What did you say?”

“I said no, at first,” Rose mumbled, staring at her knees. “He just looked so… hurt when I refused. I said I’d think about it.”

“You’ve already decided not to, though, haven’t you?”

“What would I _do_ there, Tony?” Rose demanded, clenching her hand into a fist. “The Doctor married a woman called River Song after he left me here. The Doctor I have waiting at the mansion doesn’t know that— and can’t,” she added with a stern look in Tony’s direction. “He wants to bring me back to future him and he has no idea that he’ll have moved on from me and probably fallen in love with another woman.”

“You don’t know he’s in love with her,” Tony rationalised. 

She sent him a glare. “Tony, he _married_ her. She knew his real name. He did the same to me after we got married— it’s a Gallifreyan custom.” 

“The Doctor once told me that arranged marriage is also a Gallifreyan custom,” Tony pointed out a bit smugly. “Besides, didn’t he also marry the other universe’s Queen Elizabeth I?” 

Rose couldn’t help but chuckle at that, remembering the moments when her human Doctor used to rant fondly about all the times Queen Elizabeth tried to have him executed and he had no idea why besides his being married to her. “True.” 

“The Doctor always told me how happy you made him, Rose,” Tony added gently, prompting tears to well up in her eyes and spill down her cheeks. “In all probability, the Doctor’s out there, in the other universe, and missing you just as much.” Tony sat back on his pillows. “If he can fall in love with you in three days and already want you for himself in the future, he couldn’t possibly let go of you that easily.”

Rose opened and closed her mouth a few times, unsure how to respond to that. Wiping her eyes, she settled for, “Get some sleep, or Cecilia’ll kill me. ‘Kay, old man?”

Tony, who’d been frowning disapprovingly at her deflection, chuckled. “Yes ma’am.”

Rose curled up in the chair adjacent to Cecilia and watched her brother fall asleep, for a moment seeing her Doctor drifting off into slumber and never waking up again. She hoped that wherever the future Doctor was now, he’d be happy to see her.

She was going home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta: natural-blues**.  
>  A/N: Ta-da :D Chapter three! To those of you who had been waiting to find out whether Five had met Rose's husband or just the Time Lord version... there ya are :p It's the Time Lord version from 'Time Crash'. Updates for this will be relatively close (closer than usual, anyway) 'cos I may or may not have finished this story ^^' welp, that's what happens when writer's block takes a vacation for once. Stay tuned for chapter four!  
> EDIT: Super special thanks to Arvi for pointing out an egregious and totally embarrassing error, which I've corrected so none of you can laugh at me (and no, you can't know what it was).


	4. Day Four: Need You, Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor confronts Rose about what he discovered in John's box, prompting a huge fight between the two of them.

Day Four: Need You, Love You

He didn’t sleep long, having slept too much the last few days already; but were there anybody else in the room with him, they wouldn’t know he’d woken, as he was staying completely still underneath the covers with his eyes closed and steadily breathing in her scent. Eventually light began to spill through the window and he heard the sound of birdsong, so he forced himself up off the bed and slunk out into the living room, hoping Rose was there and, simultaneously, that she wasn’t, since he was already starting to feel a bit ashamed of falling asleep on her bed. In her room. After discovering her secrets.

To try and clear his head, he took another shower and made it extra long, lathering Rose’s shampoo into his hair and trying to savour it. Once she returned, he was going to have to sit her down and have a long talk about why exactly she had to return to the future him. He paused, fingers in his hair. He didn’t want her to leave — more than he should — but he was pretty certain future him wanted her more… if that made any sense. He tried picturing the reaction the crazy-haired, pinstriped him would have after not seeing Rose for Rassilon knows how many years. He imagined there would probably be lots of tears.

And snogging. That made him flush.

The Doctor redressed and dried his hair, heading out into the living room to wait from her. He jumped a bit when he spotted Rose in the kitchen with her back to him, setting down her coat on the kitchen island and pushing back her windswept hair. 

“Morning,” Rose said brightly, when she spotted him in the doorway. She froze when he didn’t answer, turning back to him. “Um, are you all right, Doctor?”

He stayed silent for an extra minute, simply watching her through sad eyes. Then, inhaling deeply to steel himself, he stepped forward and pointed to the picture of Johnathan Noble on the mantle. “That man is me.”

All the flush from her face drained, leaving her colourless and looking like a ghost. “What?” she said, voice almost inaudible and sounding choked.

“Johnathan Noble, your _husband_ ,” the Doctor said firmly, suddenly irrationally upset. “He’s me. You didn’t tell me that.”

“He’s not you, Doctor,” Rose said, in the same near-silent tone as before.

He gritted his teeth— how _dare_ she lie? “No, he’s just _one_ of me.”

Rose flushed and her right hand immediately flew to her left ring finger to grip the gold wedding band, which most likely held the same Gallifreyan inscription as the one in the box. “How did you—?”

It was his turn to flush with shame. “The box under the bed.”

The mixed look of horror, betrayal, devastation and anger would probably haunt him forever. “You opened it?! You went through his _things_?!”

“He’s me!” the Doctor burst out.

“He _isn’t_ you!” Rose cried, stomping her foot as tears splashed down her cheeks— he felt awful for making her cry but stood his ground. “‘Cos _he_ would never be such a nosy arse!” He flinched, but she kept going. “ _I_ haven’t even opened the box!” 

“Well if you had, you would have learned some things,” the Doctor snapped. 

“What did you see?” Rose said, voice low and dangerous. 

“A ring, with my _real name_ and yours intertwined in Gallifreyan. Among other things.” Her fingers tightened around her ring. “What happens? Why do I get split into two people? Who’s River Song?”

“It’s none of your business,” Rose shot at him.

“It is my business; it happens to _me_ ,” he shot back. “I believe I deserve to know that in the future I’ll turn into two people, one of which will marry you and then die before he can blink—”

“Leave,” Rose snarled, letting go of her ring and pointing towards the door.

“No, I want to know—” he started to demand. 

“LEAVE NOW!” she shouted. Suddenly her eyes were blazing and he could _feel_ the anger radiating off of her, and it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen and at the same time the most terrifying. “GET OUT!” The Doctor glared at her and stomped over to the door, storming out into the crisp morning air. She yelled after him, voice wavering with tears, “AN’ I DON’T WANT TO SEE YOU EVER AGAIN, YOU BLOODY WANKER!” 

Rose slammed the door behind him, before wrapping her arms around herself, sliding down the door and collapsing into ragged sobs. It was always the Time Lord Doctor that hurt her, left her behind, stuck his nose where it didn’t belong, and acted like a genuine arsehole, whereas the human Doctor had never done anything like that. _Fuck_ , she missed him. 

She cried until her chest, throat and head hurt. Wiping her eyes, she heaved herself up off the floor and, sniffling, glanced at the clock. She had to be at Torchwood in an hour and a half, and as much as she _really_ wanted to call in sick and spend the whole day in bed, the last thing she wanted was to be alone with her thoughts— no, what Rose needed was a distraction. So she headed into her room and did exactly what she did the day after her husband died.

Rose dressed, did her makeup and headed out for Torchwood.

*

The Doctor stormed through parallel London, heading down into the Tube (he flashed some psychic paper at the Tube station, since he was afraid he was going to shout at the ticket lady if he tried speaking to her) and glaring at anybody who had the audacity to sit next to him. He fully intended to leave this universe without her and never return— anger was coursing through him like molten lava and for the first time since he regenerated he desperately wanted to punch something. 

Nearly knocking over some poor old dear doing her shopping in his haste, the Doctor stormed up to the TARDIS and tried to yank open the doors. She didn’t shock his hand this time, since it was clear he was most certainly _not_ in the mood, but still refused to open the door, probing his mind for an explanation.

“None of your business,” he snapped, before recoiling at his own repetition of Rose’s words. “We… argued, all right? Let me in.” A giant mauve negative went up in his mind, along with a wave of anger on the TARDIS’s side. He scowled and reached for the door again, only to have his hand shocked again. The Doctor yelled out in pain and gripped his hand. Swelling with anger he shouted, “ _Fine_!” and, ignoring the odd looks people gave the madman yelling at the police box, stomped off into parallel London.

He found a park and sank down onto a bench, apparently radiating with so much anger that everybody avoided going within ten feet of him. Rose had _lied_ to him. Even after he’d discovered the truth, she’d denied it. Either that or she truly believed the human clone wasn’t him. Hell, _he_ didn’t even know if it was really him or not. 

The Doctor held his head in his hands. Rassilon, his thoughts just kept going around in circles. All he kept thinking about was what his future self would feel, watching Rose walk off with a human version of himself, and then being forced to move on from her. His shoulders slumped— thinking of forgetting her even now hurt, and he was supposed to be angry with her. 

He stayed and pouted on the bench for another two hours before his anger dissipated completely and all he felt was guilt. The Doctor slumped; he’d had no right to get angry. Not only was she technically maintaining timelines, he _had_ gone through her personal items. 

He’d have to apologise. Heaving himself off the bench, he stretched out his stiff muscles and started back the way he came, but paused after a minute of walking. She’d said she never wanted to see him again. Surely it was something said in the heat of the moment— perhaps if he bought her flowers? He grimaced; that was far too cheesy. He should just apologise and be done with it— hopefully she’d forgive him with just that. 

The Doctor rode the Tube back to outer London, and he spent a full ten minutes pacing outside the door of the manor wondering whether or not to knock. When he finally worked up the nerve to, nobody answered, and when he peered through the window he found the kitchen bare of her purse and coat. Guessing she’d gone to work, the Doctor set off into London to ask around for Torchwood.

*

“‘Lo Miss Tyler,” said the secretary at the front door, Alice or something. It was far too soft a name for such a sharp-looking woman, with her pressed clothing and one too many facelifts. “Anything the matter?”

“Nothing, thanks Alice,” Rose said dismissively, hoping the pound of concealer she’d put on sufficiently hid the hour she’d spent crying. “My team ready?”

“Ready and waiting in the briefing room,” Alice said, handing her the case file.

Rose took it and simultaneously strode over to the briefing room whilst flipping through the file. Pushing open the door, Rose regarded her team— Emory and Alex Evans, dark-haired twins from Hounslow, Jenna Finnigan, an Irish field medic and Wilson Lawrence, who was almost annoyingly polite but good at negotiations. They all looked up from their own files, frowning at her abrupt expression. 

“What’s the scenario?” Rose asked. Everybody stayed silent, all looking slightly worried. Rose put her hand on her hip. “Well?”

“The Sontarans are on their way to invade,” said Jenna in her thick accent, voice quiet and terrified.

Rose stayed silent for a full minute, leaving her back turned to her team so they couldn’t see her face. Then, with a blank sideways glance she muttered, “Well then. _Sontar-ha._ ” 

*

It took six people to find one that knew the location of the Torchwood building, in central London. Once he learned this he hastened back onto the Tube, heading back to near his TARDIS was parked and coming across a tall, thin building that reminded the Doctor of a credit stick. He was stopped at the front gate— a minor inconvenience with a flash of the psychic paper. The Doctor hesitated when he approached the secretary, hoping Rose wouldn’t run into him here and that they’d be able to talk in private. 

“Can I help you?” the woman said, her voice oddly gentle for such a waspish-looking secretary.

“I’m, er, looking for my friend, Rose Tyler,” he mumbled, staring at his feet. 

The woman — Alice, from the plaque on her desk — gave him a raised eyebrow. “She’s out in the field with her new team.”

“When will—?” he started to say impatiently, before pausing. “Wait a moment, ‘new’ team?”

“Yes,” said Alice, looking sympathetic. “Her old team died in a mission last year.”

_I lost my parents, my friends, an’ my husband._

His hearts dropped into his stomach. She had told him she’d lost her friends as well, and it’d completely passed him by; he’d been too caught up in the sensitive subjects of her parents and husband to even think about her watching her friends die as well. His eyes drifted to the corner of the room, where there was a blown-up photograph of three laughing men and two women, one Asian, all surrounding a smiling Rose— the caption read what was most likely their names, “ _Owen Harper, Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Toshiko Sato, Gwen Cooper_.” At the bottom in smaller writing was probably a tribute or something, but the Doctor didn’t bother reading it. 

All he cared about was getting Rose back. Now.

“Where is she?” he demanded, voice cracking.

“She’s in the field, like I said,” Alice said, frowning at him.

“No, tell me _exactly_ where she is,” the Doctor snapped, gripping the edge of her desk and giving her an Oncoming Storm glare.

She successfully recoiled. “She’s at the UNIT field headquarters in Essex, at a negotiation!” 

Whirling around without thanking the woman, he stormed back out of the Torchwood building, prepared to shout at the TARDIS to get her non-existent arse straight to Essex. However, once he got off the Tube and headed towards to her, the doors opened on their own and he stomped into the console room. 

_About bloody time_ , he thought, making a beeline for the console.

Punching in the coordinates, he twiddled a dial and the TARDIS landed. The Doctor pushed open the doors and at once his ears were met with the loud sounds of fighting, making panic well up in his hearts. 

“ROSE!” he shouted to nobody in particular, dashing into a grassy field towards the source of the sounds. The Doctor tripped over himself twice going through the field, seeing the outline of people and an armada of ships growing more detailed the closer he got. “Ro—” he started to call out again, stopping himself when he fully reached the scene.

Sontarans. Literally dozens of them, storming over fallen non- and human bodies firing lasers into a crowd of fighting Torchwood members. This regeneration was known well for being very against violence, but Rose was magnificence in the field, using tranquilliser guns (a woman after his own hearts) to take down one Sontaran after another. The utmost look of concentration and determination was on her face, and he simply took the moment to watch her in awe and admire the woman he was most definitely going to marry in the future. 

Rose had her back turned to him, standing amongst the bodies and making more fall like dominoes with the help of her new team. To his horror, one of the already ‘fallen’ Sontarans stirred behind her, lifting its head and gripping its gun. Terror filled him up like a teakettle and he screamed, “ROSE, BEHIND YOU!”

Rose started to turn around, but before she could turn her head all the way the Sontaran behind her began to raise its gun. It was as though time slowed to a crawl just for this moment— the Doctor plunged his hand into his pocket and withdrew whatever he grabbed first, hurling the object — which turned out to be a cricket ball — at the Sontaran just as it fully raised its gun. The cricket ball hit the Sontaran squarely on the back of the neck just after it pulled the trigger, knocking it out at once. 

The shot hit her directly on the back, lighting up her body like a light bulb, making her eyes widen and her mouth fall open almost in a shocked ‘oh’. He was aware his mouth was open as well in a scream and that his feet were moving him towards where Rose was falling forward, and then all of a sudden he found himself in front of her, catching her in his arms and lowering her to the ground to cradle her in his lap. The rest of the world melted away as Rose’s team took out the other Sontarans, and nothing existed but the woman in his arms with the bloodstain on her back and the slowly closing eyes.

“Rose,” he whimpered, unimaginable fear clenching his throat and making it hard to breathe. “Rose, keep your eyes open.” She made a choking sound like she was trying to speak, but he hushed her gently. “No, don’t try speaking, love. Just… just stay with me, okay? Rose, no,” he said loudly, when her head started to loll and her eyelids flickered. “Do not close your eyes, Rose, do you understand me?”

She made another choking sound around what he guessed was blood. “ _Doctor_ …”

Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment, making him grip her tighter and choke out, “Rose, I need you. Don’t go. I’m so sorry.” Rassilon, he couldn’t breathe. “I love you,” he whispered, blinking away tears. Her eyes drifted towards his, betraying no emotion whatsoever. “I love you, Rose. I need you. Don’t leave me.”

The smallest of smiles graced her mouth, making her eyes crinkle at the sides. Then her head tilted and her eyes slid shut, smile still on her mouth, and her body went completely limp in his arms. 

“No, Rose,” he said loudly, shaking her a bit to try and wake her and failing. “ _Rose_!” 

“Oh my God,” gasped some nameless woman behind him.

He had to get her to the TARDIS. Hoisting her up and cradling her bridal style, he bypassed the fallen Sontaran fleet and the Torchwood team and headed straight for his ship in the distance.

“ _Open_!” he shouted needlessly, and the TARDIS doors burst open on their own again. 

The console room now led straight to the med bay, allowing the pale-faced Doctor to immediately set Rose down on the bed. Praying she wasn’t already gone, he used a pair of scissors to cut through her vest top and brassiere, revealing the giant melted hole across her back. Bile rose up in his throat but he choked it down, wiping tears off of his face and hooking her up to a monitor. A strangled cry echoed through the room, and he left it unnoticed that it had come from him— there was still some brain activity, but her heart wasn’t beating. The wound had either shocked her heart into stopping or had severed something inside her and it had bled around her heart, suffocating it. 

He set to work, using advanced scanning equipment to check her internal injuries and thankfully finding none that couldn’t wait, nor any blood around her heart. With a pair of wires that he taped on diagonal sides of her heart, the Doctor circled over to the monitor and set a standard charge. Her body jerked at the jolt of electricity, but her heart still didn’t start on its own. Desperate, the Doctor doubled the charge and shocked her a second time, once again to no avail.

“Why, _why isn’t it working_?!” he shouted to nobody, raising the charge and shocking her again. It was almost terrifying, how she was still wearing the smile from earlier. He yanked the monitor back in front of his face to check the scans again, wondering what he’d missed. 

At once the world ended.

The scans showed the muscle on her heart had been burned away almost completely. There was no way he’d be able to save her, not even with his advanced technology. 

“No…” he breathed out, turning to her and simply staring. Rose was still so beautiful, skin pale where it wasn’t covered in blood, still smiling and looking unbelievably calm. And she was dead. “ _No_. My Rose.”

The Doctor stumbled over to her, sinking to his knees by her bedside and grabbing her hand. Her fingers didn’t grip his back like they normally would, and it was another sear to his hearts. Dropping his head onto her bare chest, the Doctor did what he hadn’t done since he was a child— he dissolved into tears.

Rassilon, he was in love with her. And he’d realised it too late.

It destroyed him, knowing the last thing he’d spoken to her about was future him dying, causing her pain, knowing the last thing she’d said to him was that she never wanted to see him again. His respiratory bypass was the only thing that kept him from suffocating under his own shuddering sobs and the anguish tightening his chest. The TARDIS was prodding his mind but he ignored her, too caught up in sobbing his hearts out. He was going to have to bring her body back to future him, and future him would remember everything that transpired the last four days, and despite knowing it was going to probably kill him again, the Doctor didn’t want to forget meeting her, living with her, or loving her.

_Oh Rose, my Rose, I’m so sorry. I failed._

The TARDIS poked his mind again, this time more urgently, and he rounded on her, hugging Rose close, glaring at the ceiling and shouting, “SHUT UP AND LEAVE ME ALONE!” 

The TARDIS recoiled initially from his outburst, but instead of snapping back like she usually would by making the monitor fall on top of him or something, she sent a wave of something warm — what the hell was that? _Hope_? — flooding over him. Sobs dying down the slightest amount, he was able to hear a slight rattling sound coming from the console room. Frowning, the Doctor turned his tear-stained face to squint through bleary eyes in the direction of the sound. The console room was glowing slightly gold, the light flickering in sync with the clanging sounds.

Forcing himself to stand and lay Rose back down on the bed — not before pressing a kiss to her still warm hand — the Doctor headed into the console room, blinking a bit sluggishly around tears. A section of the console was rattling like it was trying to open, golden light seeping through the cracks. 

The heart of the TARDIS.

Rose had mentioned once that she had looked into the heart of the TARDIS and absorbed the Vortex to save him (among dissolving Daleks into dust, apparently), and suddenly yes, there was something to hope for. With another sob and a prayer to whoever was listening that this would work, the Doctor undid the latch on the console and heaved it open.

At once the console room flooded with light, almost too bright for his eyes, and an ethereal, terribly beautiful song that reminded him so wholly of Rose. He brought one arm up to shield away the worst of the light, carefully avoiding looking directly into her heart and instead turning his gaze to where Rose was visible through the doorway. Golden tendrils snaked from the console and drifted almost lazily to her body, wrapping themselves around her body until she was completely covered in translucent gold light. 

He watched in awe as her skin seemed to soak up the light, making her hair shine and her eyelashes glow almost white. Then, as quickly as they’d come, the tendrils slipped away from her and poured back into the console, which swept closed with a bang. At once, Rose stopped glowing, looking as she did moments earlier. Only — no, wait — she was _breathing_. He literally threw himself back into the med bay, all limbs and little else, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process and collapsing at her bedside. Her chest rose and fell with gentle, normal breaths, and when the Doctor pressed his palm to her chest he could feel the strong thrumming of her heartbeat against his hand.

A strangled cry of relief flung from his throat and he leaned over to hug her to him, only to pull back when his hand slipped onto her back and encountered healthy skin. He lifted her up slightly, shocked to discover that the wound from the Sontaran’s weapon was gone. The blood was still there, as was the dirt and ash from the battle, but her skin had been completely repaired with nary a scar left behind. 

He definitely had to be the luckiest person in the world.

More tears — these ones of relief — spilled over his face and he exhaled raggedly, picking her up again, regardless of the blood and soot that was getting on his jacket. A door appeared to his right, leading into a modern pink bedroom. Holding her tightly to him and nuzzling his nose into her hair, the Doctor stepped through the door and headed straight into the en suite.

He set her in the bathtub and bathed her, wiping the blood and grime off her body until she was completely clean before dressing her in a pair of flannel jimjams the TARDIS had laid out of her. Then, after setting her onto the bed and tucking her in, he curled up next to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta: natural-blues**.  
>  A/N: Chapter four :) Lotsa angsty-angst for this angsty-angst fic. I can't remember if I reassured you guys there'd be a happy ending or not. Stay tuned for chapter 5 and a happy lil Eleven/Rose reunion.


	5. Day Five: None of the Above

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose recovers from being brought back from the dead, and Five takes her back to her universe, to a shell-shocked Eleven.

Day Five: None of the Above

“Rose, I need you. Don’t go. I’m so sorry. I love you. I love you, Rose. I need you. Don’t leave me. No, Rose. Rose!”

_Rose felt like she was floating._

_Everything around her was gold and flowing, like standing in the middle of a glittery golden fog. She blinked and looked around, wondering where the hell she was. Oh, wait— didn’t she get shot by a Sontaran? Rose craned her head, trying to get a glimpse of her back. From what she could see, she was fine. Maybe she was mistaken._

_“You weren’t, Rose,” said a soft voice to her right, one she recognised and that made her heart leap. She whirled around._

_It was the Doctor—_ her _Doctor, with his fantastic hair and sideburns, brown eyes and gentle grin. His gold ring was on his left ring finger and he was dressed in a paisley plaid shirt instead of his old pinstriped suit. So this was her husband, looking like it was only yesterday they’d been left together on Bad Wolf Bay._

_“My Doctor,” she whispered._

_He beamed like he’d just found a banana or something, arm opening as she ran towards him, throwing her arms around his neck. After two years of being alone, Rose was finally back in her husband’s arms. He felt real— he was still warm, still smelling like hair gel and faintly of time. But how?_

_“Am I dead?” Rose mumbled into his shoulder._

_“Weeell, that’s to be determined,” he said airily, and Rose’s heart clenched at his signature drawl._

_“What the sodden hell does that mean?” she choked._

_“To learn that, you’ll have to let go of me,” the Doctor chuckled._

_“Don’t wanna,” Rose whimpered._

_His hand flew up to her hair, stroking it gently the way he used to whenever she was upset. “Neither do I,” he admitted._

_A thought suddenly occurred to her. “Is this even real?”_

_“Sort of,” he said simply._

“Open!”

_Rose turned around, frowning as the sound of the other Doctor’s voice echoed through the gold mist. “What?”_

_“What?” repeated her Doctor, emulating her frown._

_“I thought I heard—” she started to say, hands still gripping his shoulders even though her head was turned._

_“Me?” he said, and Rose turned back to see him smiling lightly. “The old me?” He beamed. “When I was a cricketer and wore a decorative vegetable!”_

“Why, why isn’t it working?!”

_“What’s not working?” Rose called out. “Doctor?”_

_“He can’t hear you, Rose,” her Doctor said gently, cupping the side of her face with his hand._

_“What’s going on?” Rose demanded. “Tell me, Doctor. No more deflecting.”_

_“You’re dying, Rose,” the Doctor said quietly, and how he could ever say that while still smiling made Rose question again whether or not anything here was real. “And right now I’m in there trying to save you.”_

_He pointed to his right, and Rose turned her head to see the outline of the TARDIS in the fog. That had most certainly not been there a minute ago. She stepped back from the Doctor at once, letting go of him and putting at least three feet of distance between them._

_“Then I’m hallucinating,” Rose said in a low voice._

_The Doctor, who looked a bit upset over her retreat, shook his head. “You aren’t.”_

_“Then what the hell is this?” Rose snapped. “You’ve been dead two years, but you’re here, tellin’ me I’m dead and that past you is trying to save me?”_

“No… No. My Rose.”

_The voice came from inside the TARDIS, and if that tone wasn’t the epitome of utter devastation, she didn’t want to know what was. She took a step towards it but stopped herself— as much as she wanted to assure the other Doctor of her well being, she didn’t want to leave her husband._

_“That’s right, Rose,” her Doctor said softly, eyebrows arched upward slightly, hands now in his pockets. Nodding his head in the direction of the TARDIS, he added, “And he’s not going to be able to.”_

_Rose scrutinised him, but he looked dead serious. “Then I’m going to die?”_

_“That’s up to you,” the Doctor said quietly. “Either you choose to go in there and see him, or you stay here.”_

With me. _He didn’t say it, but he didn’t need to. Tears welled up in her eyes and splashed down her cheeks. “I want to stay with you.”_

_“You’ll die if you do, Rose,” he said._

_“I don’t_ care _!” she shouted. “I don’t wanna live without you anymore!”_

 _“Listen to me,” the Doctor said firmly, walking towards her and grabbing her shoulders. “There’s no going back if you choose this. If you choose not to live, the Doctor — that Doctor_ and _the future one — will never forgive himself. The past one will forget ever meeting you, and the future one’ll remember centuries later.”_

_“You’ll be married to River Song, though. She can help.”_

_“She’s not you,” said the Doctor earnestly, with a sad smile. “She’ll never be you.”_

_Rose opened her mouth to retort, but her voice failed. Looking hurriedly between him and the TARDIS, she whimpered, “But what about you?”_

_“Just before we found out you were going to outlive me, I wrote you a letter telling you that, when I was gone, to go and find him again,” the Doctor said. “It’s in the box under your bed. You have to go back to him, Rose. It’ll kill him if you don’t.”_

_She threw her arms around him again, and he held her, letting her sob into his shoulder for a full five minutes. As much as Rose wanted to be selfish for once and simply walk off into death to be with her husband, his admittance that the Time Lord Doctor wouldn’t be all right without her made her decision._

_“Okay,” she whispered._

_He actually looked relieved, dipping her back the way he used to and snogging her thoroughly. Rose clung to him, hands fisting in his hair as she slanted her mouth against his, tasting her own tears. Pulling away from her, he smoothed back her hair once before stepping away. “Don’t forget what I told you on Darlig Ulv Stranden.”_

How could I forget? _Rose wanted to say, but the Doctor dissipated into gold mist to join the rest before she could say anything. Squeezing her eyes shut and letting the rest of her tears fall, Rose turned towards the TARDIS, inhaled deeply and entered._

_The console room was barren and barely lit, glowing so dimly the room looked grey. A faint, oddly echoing sobbing sound reverberated in the grey console room, and Rose could see the Doctor’s back through the doorway to what appeared to be the med bay._

_It was surreal, seeing_ herself _on the medical bed. She was naked from the waist up, and Rose’s hands flew to her mouth when she saw the gaping hole in her back. The Doctor was on his knees in front of the bed, his hand gripping hers and his face pressed into her bare chest. And he was_ crying.

_Rose had only ever once seen the Doctor cry— not when he was a Time Lord, because he’d refused to ever show weakness in front of her (at least, that’s what she’d gathered) but when he was human, only after he’d partially lost his mind to age and had been convinced she was leaving him. And here he was, a Doctor who’d known her all of five days, sobbing to the point where he couldn’t breathe, because she’d died._

_And he’d said he loved her. She remembered now._

_“Doctor, I’m all right,” Rose whispered, once again with teary eyes at the sight of the Doctor in tears. He didn’t hear her, clearly, so she tried again. “Doctor, I’m fine!” The Doctor apparently couldn’t hear her at all. What was she supposed to do, then?_

What do you choose? 

_Somehow, some way, Rose knew it was the voice of the TARDIS. Reaching a hand out towards her sobbing Doctor, she said, “I want to live.”_

_The golden light from outside seeped into the med bay, brightening it to a blinding point until everything went black. Her last thought before drifting back into unconsciousness was wondering, if this was merely a hallucination, how her Doctor had told her about the letter in the box when she herself hadn’t known of its existence._

*

When she woke again, her entire body ached. Something cool and heavy was practically on top of her, and she whimpered in protest. 

“Rose?” 

Blinking blood from her eyes, Rose took in the ceiling of her old room in the TARDIS. Her heart leapt— was she back with the future Doctor? But the whispered, hopeful voice that had spoken her name had been of her vegetable-wearing Doctor. Apparently he’d managed to get into the TARDIS again. Rolling over, her eyes met the wide, slightly red ones of the past Doctor, and she smiled lazily. “Mm, ‘lo.” When he didn’t reply, only watched her with a growing look of terror, she frowned. “S’matter?” 

“I lost you,” he breathed out, before hugging her to him like he expected her to vanish. “My Rose.”

_Oh yeah, I died_ , she remembered, only slightly shocked. Then she remembered everything, and her frown turned into a gentle smile. Running one hand through his soft blonde hair, she murmured, “‘M all right, my Doctor.”

“No, you were _dead_ ,” he whimpered into her neck. “I’m so sorry, Rose, I—”

She shushed him softly, and he obediently quietened, simply holding her tightly. “You saved me, yeah?”

He nodded into her shoulder, but then pulled back and frowned. “You remember?”

“Most of it,” Rose shrugged. “Dunno how you saved me.”

“The TARDIS got me to open her heart,” the Doctor mumbled. “I imagine she saved you.”

He glanced up to see Rose smiling gently. “Bad Wolf.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Rose grinned, tongue between her teeth again. She jumped off the bed with the strength nobody should have after returning from the dead and pulled him with her. “I’m starved. Let’s have lunch.”

“I shall make something,” the Doctor said hastily, gripping her hand, unwilling to let her exit the TARDIS just yet. 

“Don’t burn it,” Rose winked. “Afterward I’m gonna ring Torchwood, yeah? Make sure the mission went all right and that my team’s okay—”

“Don’t leave,” he burst out, before flushing. “I mean, er—”

She stepped towards him again and hugged him a second time, and he melted against her like butter. “‘M not leaving. Just gonna call them. Then I’m gonna shower, ‘cos I’m gross, yeah?”

He chuckled quietly but nodded, letting go of her and looking like he didn’t know what to do with himself anymore. Flushing, he ducked his head and padded into the hallway, making Rose chuckle and shake her head at her silly Doctor. She spotted her Torchwood outfit tossed aside on the floor and rummaged around in it, pulling out her mobile. Upon ringing Torchwood, her team burst into shocked exclamations.

“We thought you were dead!” said Jenna’s thick Irish voice on the other end. “That cricketer bloke just kind of ran off with you.”

“He brought me back to his ship,” Rose told her. “An’ I’m all right.” As the team whooshed out sighs and began expressing their relief, Rose added with a smile, “Also, could you tell the board that I resign?” 

“ _What_?!” came four concurrent exclamations. 

“Bye guys, nice to work with you for a bit,” Rose smirked, before hanging up and bouncing in the loo to take a shower.

*

The Doctor managed to whip together a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches in his nervous state— despite knowing full well Rose was in the shower, his mind kept screaming to run into her room and make sure she hadn’t disappeared. He all but jumped when she entered the room, smelling of his shampoo (how fitting) with wet hair. 

“Oh my God, you read my mind,” Rose groaned, snatching up her sandwich and chomping down into it, and he just had to chuckle at that. Sitting down as well, he opened his mouth to say something, but Rose interrupted, “Doctor, I think you’re right.”

“Hm?” he said. “About what?”

“About bringing me back to future you,” Rose said, watching his eyes go wide with hope. “You’re right. I don’t wanna stay in that universe… without you,” she added, blushing a bit.

The smile he gave her was teary and the epitome of joy. 

They talking and laughed a bit over ‘lunch’, and when the Doctor bounced into the console room, Rose found herself picturing her reunion with the future Doctor. Either he’d welcome her with open or he’d be happy with River Song and turn her away, in which case she could always turn to Jack or Sarah Jane. Still, she couldn’t help but hope for the former.

_I lived for you_ , she thought as she watched the Doctor bounce around the console. _Please accept me._

They stopped by the mansion to pick up her things, only leaving behind a note for Tony and Cecilia explaining where they’d gone and the photo album. He grew more and more sombre the closer the time came to her leaving, until he was actually scowling. He stopped when Rose hugged him yet again in the console room.

“Allons-y, then?” she said, tongue in teeth.

The Doctor, in that moment, wished he were brave enough to kiss her tongue back into her mouth. “Yes, Rose.”

*

_“What happened to the other people who travel with you?”  
“Some left me. Some got left behind. And some, not many but… some died.”_

The Ponds and the Eleventh Doctor were all situated in the kitchen, eating a family meal of Chinese food. 

“Dear me!” exclaimed the Doctor. “I’d better get going. Things to do, worlds to save, swings to swing on. Look, I know, you both have lives here. Beautiful, messy lives. That is what makes you so fabulously human. You don’t want to give them up. I understand.”

“Actually—” Brian started to say. 

He was interrupted by a loud grinding sound that could only come from the TARDIS. Everyone frowned at each other and craned their necks to look out the window. “Isn’t that your box?” Brian said instead.

“Sounds like,” the Doctor chirped, bouncing up and over to the window. “Ooh, it’s a past TARDIS!” He turned to Amy and Rory, looking excited. “Wanna come see a past me?”

“Hell yeah,” Rory grinned, and they all abandoned their meals to hurry out onto the small lawn in front of the street.

Lo and behold, an older-looking TARDIS was parked just a few metres away from where the current TARDIS was. 

“Ooh, what did you used to look like, Doctor?” Amy said eagerly, her Scottish accent thickening in her excitement. 

“Oh, I’ve had almost a dozen faces!” the Doctor beamed jovially. “The first three were old-looking—” he shuddered, “then for a bit I was young — rather handsome, actually — and then my seventh body was old again, and then I looked like Mr. Darcy and—” 

He stopped talking at once as the door opened, revealing a Doctor dressed in an Edwardian cricketer’s outfit and looking a bit grim. The Doctor swallowed, hoping this wasn’t after he’d lost Adric— or Tegan and Turlough, since he didn’t quite remember what he’d done in that period of his life. The cricketer Doctor’s eyes found his, and he ignored his future self’s jovial wave to instead glare at him. 

“Blimey, you were bad tempered, weren’t you?” Rory smirked. 

The current Doctor frowned as the other one turned back to the TARDIS, holding out his hand for whoever was in the ship to take. A slender pair of fingers slipped into his outstretched hand, and with almost graceful movements she emerged.

And his hearts stopped.

*

Rose accepted the Doctor’s extended hand and stepped into her own universe, bag slung on her back. She smiled brightly at him, trying to get him to be rid of the sombre expression on his face. “No zeppelins,” she pointed out, letting her tongue poke out at the corner of her mouth as she glanced up at the sky and stepped onto the street.

His face successfully softened into a half-smile, not moving from his spot near the TARDIS even though their hands were still linked. “No zeppelins, Rose. Not here.”

His eyes still looked sad. She gave his hand a squeeze. “Don’t look so sad. You’ll see me again, remember?”

“Not for ages,” he mumbled, pulling her into a tight hug, and over the telepathic link between him and his future self he could literally _feel_ the anguish and jealousy radiating off the other man. 

“Aren’t I worth the wait?” Rose joked, a bit sadly. 

“Always,” he murmured into her hair. “I’ll have to forget you.”

“For now,” she reminded him, as they rocked gently in their embrace. “Just for now.”

“Until…” he started, but trailed off. Rose pulled away a bit to see him staring off at something behind her, and she started to turn her head only to have his finger on the side of her face, forcing her to look back at him. “One day, I’m going to remember the last five days, and I’m probably going to kick myself for all the stupid things I did.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “One thing I can’t kick myself for is this.” 

Swooping down, one hand cradling the back of her head, he kissed her roughly as though expecting her to fade in his arms. To his immense relief she kissed back almost immediately, whimpering against his mouth as she slipped her hands into his hair and tugged gently. Jealousy from his other self increased tenfold, and since his future self was seriously considering storming over, the Doctor pulled away from her and murmured, “I love you, my Rose.”

Her breath hitched, even though she already knew. “I love you too. This you. All of you.”

“Oh Rose, I know,” he breathed. Giving her one last kiss on the forehead, the Doctor pulled away from her completely and stepped into the TARDIS.

*

To the Doctor, the universe had always had moods.

Sometimes it thanked him with tiny favours and occasional bouts of luck, other times it was temperamental and did nothing but take everything he held dear from him. Now, however, he imagined he’d done something spectacular, because the universe was giving him back the thing he wanted more than air. 

He could feel his past self in his mind, fighting to let her go and despairing at the knowledge that he had to. The Doctor didn’t remember ever meeting Rose in his fifth life, let alone falling in love with her (again). Was that love? Yep, definitely love. The Doctor was aware of his Ponds gasping when his vegetable-wearing incarnation snogged Rose, and jealousy exploded in his chest like an errant supernova.

_Mine._

He was considering stomping over there and hitting his past self, but the cricketer Doctor pulled away from her, murmuring something. The current Doctor flinched back at the mingled happiness and devastation that flooded his other self at Rose’s reply, whatever it was. His feelings became the Doctor’s own— she was _here_. His Rose. She’d come back to him. Then the other Doctor turned away from Rose and re-entered his TARDIS, dematerialising and leaving her standing in the middle of the street looking slightly dazed.

“Doctor, are you all right?” he barely heard Amy ask, and he felt her hand brush his slightly wet cheek.

Oh. He was crying. Well, that was new. 

Rose turned away after a brief moment of staring at the spot where the past TARDIS had dematerialised, jumping when she immediately spotted the current ship. Her eyes travelled from the TARDIS straight to him, looking at him with slight astonishment.

And it didn’t matter that Rose had never seen this face before (did she like it? Oh, he hoped to Rassilon she liked it). The moment she apparently decided he was the Doctor, her face split into a beam and his hearts stuttered. His legs kicked into gear without his knowledge, stumbling over every little pebble on the pavement and even his own feet as he sprinted towards Rose, tears now knowingly pouring down his face like a faucet. 

They didn’t even have to call each other’s names. The moment he reached her he swept her into his arms and all but crushed her to him, letting out a half-laugh half-sob into her hair as her scent cascaded around him after all these years. And even though there were so many variables and consequences to consider — the fact that he was a married man, albeit to someone he didn’t love; the question of what had happened to his metacrisis-self; hell, the idea that _maybe_ Rose didn’t love him anymore — the Doctor swept down and captured her lips in an emulation of his past self.

*

“Wow,” breathed Rory.

Amy, who was looking appalled, turned to him. “What’s ‘wow’ about this?”

“I think we just witnessed the Doctor being in love,” said Rory, sounding awed. 

Amy rounded on him, unwilling to look at the Doctor and the blonde woman snog for another second. “What about our _daughter_?” 

Rory gave her a sympathetic glance. “Once upon a time—”

“Are you tellin’ me a story at a time like this?!”

“Shush and listen. Once upon a time, Amy Pond was out cold in the TARDIS. It was just after she and Rory had discovered their friend River was actually their daughter, and after the Doctor had married her.” Amy pursed her lips but nodded for him to continue. “Rory, meanwhile, was asking why the Doctor looked so upset. And the Doctor told the truth, for once.” Rory looked at her firmly. “The Doctor said he was never in love with River, and never would be. When Rory asked why, the Doctor simply said ‘Rose’.”

Amy mouthed the word ‘Rose’ and glanced between him and the blonde woman. “Then, that’s Rose?” 

“I assume,” Rory snorted.

Amy stomped her foot. “But what about—?”

“The Doctor told River too,” Rory said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. “River knows about Rose— well, about as much as I know.” 

“He said some leave him, some _he_ leaves, and some die,” said Brian from behind them. “Looks like that one did none of the above.” 

“She came back,” said Amy simply, and Rory smiled and slung an arm around her waist.

*

The Fifth Doctor hurried over to the console and piloted his ship into the Vortex. Once this was done, he sank against the console and let a hand drift up to his tingling lips, eyes sliding shut. He kissed her. And _Rassilon_ , he wished he wouldn’t have to wait who knows how many centuries to do it again, either as her human husband or the floppy, gaping idiot with the bowtie. 

He had to forget this, but he didn’t want to, at least not right now. Not so soon after he’d said goodbye. Besides, there was something he had to do first. Excitement grew inside his chest, and with a grin he punched in the coordinates, throwing himself towards the door when he landed. 

Upon flinging the doors open, the Doctor gave a giant beam to the astonished-looking Peri Brown, who had only taken two steps away from the TARDIS. “Three months, you say?” 

“That’s right,” Peri said confusedly. “I thought you said—”

“I changed my mind,” he interrupted swiftly. “Why not?”

Peri’s face split into a beam, and with a happy laugh she ran into the TARDIS. The doors closed behind her and the TARDIS jerked as they took off again to Rassilon knows where, forcing them to both grab hold of the console. With an excited grin, the Doctor shouted, “Welcome aboard, Peri!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta: natural-blues**.  
>  A/N: And so concludes this installment :) I'm kind of sad it's over. It was a colossal shock to me at how this story positively exploded with you guys— you're all so effing wonderful! X3 Hope I didn't make you cry TOO much. Eleven and Rose's reunion is set post-episode 'the Power of Three' so whatever dialogue you recognise belongs to that ep :3.  
> Like I said, there'll be a sequel to this after all the other stories in this series are written; it'll be Eleven/Rose, explain a few things between each other (River Song, Rose's inability to age etc) and it'll be rated M ;) yes, my pretties, M.  
> WARNING FROM THE FUTURE: The next story in the Forever and More series won't be rated T, as the last stories in this series have been; it's gonna be a big ol' M (sexeh Six). To those of you who don't like smut, sorry o: but you can just skip over the sex parts if it's not your cuppa and still grasp the basic storyline.

**Author's Note:**

> **All my fics can be found on fanfiction.net, teaspoon and tumblr.**


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